Chapter XI: Through Ukawendi, Uvinza, and Uhha, to Ujiji (1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A long march in a west-by-north direction, lasting six hours, through a forest where the sable antelope was seen, and which was otherwise prolific with game, brought us to a stream which ran by the base of a lofty conical hill, on whose slopes flourished quite a forest of feathery bamboo.

On the 20th, leaving our camp, which lay between the stream and the conical hill above mentioned, and surmounting a low ridge which sloped from the base of the hill-cone, we were greeted with another picturesque view, of cones and scarped mountains, which heaved upward in all directions. A march of nearly five hours through this picturesque country brought us to the Mpokwa River, one of the tributaries of the Rungwa, and to a village lately deserted by the Wazavira. The huts were almost all intact, precisely as they were left by their former inhabitants. In the gardens were yet found vegetables, which, after living so long on meat, were most grateful to us. On the branches of trees still rested the Lares and Penates of the Wazavira, in the shape of large and exceedingly well-made earthen pots.

In the neighbouring river one of my men succeeded, in few minutes, in catching sixty fish of the silurus species the hand alone. A number of birds hovered about stream, such as the white-headed fish-eagle and the kingfisher, enormous, snowy spoonbills, ibis, martins, &c. This river issued from a mountain clump eight miles or so north of the village of Mpokwa, and comes flowing down a narrow thread of water, sinuously winding amongst tall reeds and dense brakes on either side-the home of hundreds of antelopes and buffaloes. South of Mpokwa, the valley broadens, and the mountains deflect eastward and westward, and beyond this point commences the plain known as the Rikwa, which, during the Masika is inundated, but which, in the dry season, presents the same bleached aspect that plains in Africa generally do when the grass has ripened.

Travelling up along the right bank of the Mpokwa, on the 21st we came to the head of the stream, and the sources of the Mpokwa, issuing out of deep defiles enclosed by lofty ranges. The mbawala and the buffalo were plentiful.

On the 22nd, after a march of four hours and a half, we came to the beautiful stream of Mtambu--the water of which was sweet, and clear as crystal, and flowed northward. We saw for the first time the home of the lion and the leopard. Hear what Freiligrath says of the place:

Where the thorny brake and thicket
Densely fill the interspace
Of the trees, through whose thick branches
Never sunshine lights the place,
There the lion dwells, a monarch,
Mightiest among the brutes;
There his right to reign supremest
Never one his claim disputes.
There he layeth down to slumber,
Having slain and ta'en his fill;
There he roameth, there be croucheth,
As it suits his lordly will.

We camped but a few yards from just such a place as the poet describes. The herd-keeper who attended the goats and donkeys, soon after our arrival in camp, drove the animals to water, and in order to obtain it they travelled through a tunnel in the brake, caused by elephants and rhinoceros. They had barely entered the dark cavernous passage, when a black-spotted leopard sprang, and fastened its fangs in the neck of one of the donkeys, causing it, from the pain, to bray hideously. Its companions set up such a frightful chorus, and so lashed their heels in the air at the feline marauder, that the leopard bounded away through the brake, as if in sheer dismay at the noisy cries which the attack had provoked. The donkey's neck exhibited some frightful wounds, but the animal was not dangerously hurt.

Thinking that possibly I might meet with an adventure with a lion or a leopard in that dark belt of tall trees, under whose impenetrable shade grew the dense thicket that formed such admirable coverts for the carnivorous species, I took a stroll along the awesome place with the gunbearer, Kalulu, carrying an extra gun, and a further supply of ammunition. We crept cautiously along, looking keenly into the deep dark dens, the entrances of which were revealed to us, as we journeyed, expectant every moment to behold the reputed monarch of the brake and thicket, bound forward to meet us, and I took a special delight in picturing, in my imagination, the splendor and majesty of the wrathful brute, as he might stand before me. I peered closely into every dark opening, hoping to see the deadly glitter of the great angry eyes, and the glowering menacing front of the lion as he would regard me. But, alas! after an hour's search for adventure, I had encountered nothing, and I accordingly waxed courageous, and crept into one of these leafy, thorny caverns, and found myself shortly standing under a canopy of foliage that was held above my head fully a hundred feet by the shapely and towering stems of the royal mvule. Who can imagine the position? A smooth lawn-like glade; a dense and awful growth of impenetrable jungle around us; those stately natural pillars--a glorious phalanx of royal trees, bearing at such sublime heights vivid green masses of foliage, through which no single sun-ray penetrated, while at our feet babbled the primeval brook, over smooth pebbles, in soft tones befitting the sacred quiet of the scene! Who could have desecrated this solemn, holy harmony of nature? But just as I was thinking it impossible that any man could be tempted to disturb the serene solitude of the place, I saw a monkey perched high on a branch over my head, contemplating, with something of an awe-struck look, the strange intruders beneath. Well, I could not help it, I laughed--laughed loud and long, until I was hushed by the chaos of cries and strange noises which seemed to respond to my laughing. A troop of monkeys, hidden in the leafy depths above, had been rudely awakened, and, startled by the noise I made, were hurrying away from the scene with a dreadful clamor of cries and shrieks.

Emerging again into the broad sunlight, I strolled further in search of something to shoot. Presently, I saw, feeding quietly in the forest which bounded the valley of the Mtambu on the left, a huge, reddish-coloured wild boar, armed with most horrid tusks. Leaving Kalulu crouched down behind a tree, and my solar helmet behind another close by--that I might more safely stalk the animal--I advanced towards him some forty yards, and after taking a deliberate aim, fired at his fore shoulder. As if nothing had hurt him whatever, the animal made a furious bound, and then stood with his bristles erected, and tufted tail, curved over the back--a most formidable brute in appearance. While he was thus listening, and searching the neighbourhood with his keen, small eyes, I planted another shot in his chest, which ploughed its way through his body. Instead of falling, however, as I expected he would, he charged furiously in the direction the bullet had come, and as he rushed past me, another ball was fired, which went right through him; but still he kept on, until, within six or seven yards from the trees behind which Kalulu was crouching down on one side, and the helmet was resting behind another, he suddenly halted, and then dropped. But as I was about to advance on him with my knife to cut his throat, he suddenly started up; his eyes had caught sight of the little boy Kalulu, and were then, almost immediately afterwards, attracted by the sight of the snowy helmet. These strange objects on either side of him proved too much for the boar, for, with a terrific grunt, he darted on one side into a thick brake, from which it was impossible to oust him, and as it was now getting late, and the camp was about three miles away, I was reluctantly obliged to return without the meat.

On our way to camp we were accompanied by a large animal which persistently followed us on our left. It was too dark to see plainly, but a large form was visible, if not very clearly defined. It must have been a lion, unless it was the ghost of the dead boar.

That night, about 11 P.M., we were startled by the roar of a lion, in close proximity to the camp. Soon it was joined by another, and another still, and the novelty of the thing kept me awake. I peered through the gate of the camp, and endeavoured to sight a rifle--my little Winchester, in the accuracy of which I had perfect confidence; but, alas! for the cartridges, they might have been as well filled with sawdust for all the benefit I derived from them. Disgusted with the miserable ammunition, I left the lions alone, and turned in, with their roaring as a lullaby.

That terrestrial paradise for the hunter, the valley of the pellucid Mtambu, was deserted by us the next morning for the settlement commonly known to the Wakawendi as Imrera's, with as much unconcern as though it were a howling desert. The village near which we encamped was called Itaga, in the district of Rusawa. As soon as we had crossed the River Mtambu we had entered Ukawendi, commonly called "Kawendi" by the natives of the country.

The district of Rusawa is thickly populated. The people are quiet and well-disposed to strangers, though few ever come to this region from afar. One or two Wasawahili traders visit it every year or so from Pumburu and Usowa; but very little ivory being obtained from the people, the long distance between the settlements serves to deter the regular trader from venturing hither.

If caravans arrive here, the objective point to them is the district of Pumburu, situated south-westerly one day's good marching, or, say, thirty statute miles from Imrera; or they make for Usowa, on the Tanganika, via Pumburu, Katuma, Uyombeh, and Ugarawah. Usowa is quite an important district on the Tanganika, populous and flourishing. This was the road we had intended to adopt after leaving Imrera, but the reports received at the latter place forbade such a venture. For Mapunda, the Sultan of Usowa, though a great friend to Arab traders, was at war with the colony of the Wazavira, who we must remember were driven from Mpokwa and vicinity in Utanda, and who were said to have settled between Pumburu and Usowa.

It remained for us, like wise, prudent men, having charge of a large and valuable Expedition on our hands, to decide what to do, and what route to adopt, now that we had approached much nearer to Ujiji than we were to Unyanyembe. I suggested that we should make direct for the Tanganika by compass, trusting to no road or guide, but to march direct west until we came to the Tanganika, and then follow the lake shore on foot until we came to Ujiji. For it ever haunted my mind, that, if Dr. Livingstone should hear of my coming, which he might possibly do if I travelled along any known road, he would leave, and that my search for him would consequently be a "stern chase." But my principal men thought it better that we should now boldly turn our faces north, and march for the Malagarazi, which was said to be a large river flowing from the east to the Tanganika. But none of my men knew the road to the Malagarazi, neither could guides be hired from Sultan Imrera. We were, however, informed that the Malagarazi was but two days' march from Imrera. I thought it safe, in such a case, to provision my men with three days' rations. The village of Itaga is situated in a deep mountain hollow, finely overlooking a large extent of cultivation. The people grow sweet potatoes, manioc--out of which tapioca is made--beans, and the holcus. Not one chicken could be purchased for love or money, and, besides grain, only a lean, scraggy specimen of a goat, a long time ago imported form Uvinza, was procurable.

October the 25th will be remembered by me as a day of great troubles; in fact, a series of troubles began from this date. We struck an easterly road in order to obtain a passage to the lofty plateau which bounded the valley of Imrera on the west and on the north. We camped, after a two and a half hours' march, at its foot. The defile promised a feasible means of ascent to the summit of the plateau, which rose upward in a series of scarps a thousand feet above the valley of Imrera.

While ascending that lofty arc of mountains which bounded westerly and northerly the basin of Imrera, extensive prospects southward and eastward were revealed. The character of the scenery at Ukawendi is always animated and picturesque, but never sublime. The folds of this ridge contained several ruins of bomas, which seemed to have been erected during war time.

The mbemba fruit was plentiful along this march, and every few minutes I could see from the rear one or two men hastening to secure a treasure of it which they discovered on the ground.

A little before reaching the camp I had a shot at a leopard, but failed to bring him down as he bounded away. At night the lions roared as at the Mtambu River.

A lengthy march under the deep twilight shadows of a great forest, which protected us from the hot sunbeams, brought us, on the next day, to a camp newly constructed by a party of Arabs from Ujiji, who had advanced thus far on their road to Unyanyembe, but, alarmed at the reports of the war between Mirambo and the Arabs, had returned. Our route was along the right bank of the Rugufu, a broad sluggish stream, well choked with the matete reeds and the papyrus. The tracks and the bois de vaches of buffaloes were numerous, and there were several indications of rhinoceros being near. In a deep clump of timber near this river we discovered a colony of bearded and leonine-looking monkeys.

As we were about leaving our camp on the morning of the 28th a herd of buffalo walked deliberately into view. Silence was quickly restored, but not before the animals, to their great surprise, had discovered the danger which confronted them. We commenced stalking them, but we soon heard the thundering sound of their gallop, after which it becomes a useless task to follow them, with a long march in a wilderness before one.

The road led on this day over immense sheets of sandstone and iron ore. The water was abominable, and scarce, and famine began to stare us in the face. We travelled for six hours, and had yet seen no sign of cultivation anywhere. According to my map we were yet two long marches from the Malagarazi--if Captain Burton had correctly laid down the position of the river; according to the natives' account, we should have arrived at the Malagarazi on this day.

On the 29th we left our camp, and after a few minutes, we were in view of the sublimest, but ruggedest, scenes we had yet beheld in Africa. The country was cut up in all directions by deep, wild, and narrow ravines trending in all directions, but generally toward the north-west, while on either side rose enormous square masses of naked rock (sandstone), sometimes towering, and rounded, sometimes pyramidal, sometimes in truncated cones, sometimes in circular ridges, with sharp, rugged, naked backs, with but little vegetation anywhere visible, except it obtained a precarious tenure in the fissured crown of some gigantic hill-top, whither some soil had fallen, or at the base of the reddish ochre scarps which everywhere lifted their fronts to our view.

A long series of descents down rocky gullies, wherein we were environed by threatening masses of disintegrated rock, brought us to a dry, stony ravine, with mountain heights looming above us a thousand feet high. This ravine we followed, winding around in all directions, but which gradually widened, however, into a broad plain, with a western trend. The road, leaving this, struck across a low ridge to the north; and we were in view of deserted settlements where the villages were built on frowning castellated masses of rock. Near an upright mass of rock over seventy feet high, and about fifty yards in diameter, which dwarfed the gigantic sycamore close to it, we made our camp, after five hours and thirty minutes' continuous and rapid marching.

The people were very hungry; they had eaten every scrap of meat, and every grain they possessed, twenty hours before, and there was no immediate prospect of food. I had but a pound and a half of flour left, and this would not have sufficed to begin to feed a force of over forty-five people; but I had something like thirty pounds of tea, and twenty pounds of sugar left, and I at once, as soon as we arrived at camp, ordered every kettle to be filled and placed on the fire, and then made tea for all; giving each man a quart of a hot, grateful beverage; well sweetened. Parties stole out also into the depths: of the jungle to search for wild fruit, and soon returned laden with baskets of the wood-peach and tamarind fruit, which though it did not satisfy, relieved them. That night, before going to sleep, the Wangwana set up a loud prayer to "Allah" to give them food.

We rose betimes in the morning, determined to travel on until food could be procured, or we dropped down from sheer fatigue and weakness. Rhinoceros' tracks abounded, and buffalo seemed to be plentiful, but we never beheld a living thing. We crossed scores of short steeps, and descended as often into the depths of dry, stony gullies, and then finally entered a valley, bounded on one side by a triangular mountain with perpendicular sides, and on the other by a bold group, a triplet of hills. While marching down this valley--which soon changed its dry, bleached aspect to a vivid green--we saw a forest in the distance, and shortly found ourselves in corn-fields. Looking keenly around for a village, we descried it on the summit of the lofty triangular hill on our right. A loud exultant shout was raised at the discovery. The men threw down their packs, and began to clamour for food. Volunteers were asked to come forward to take cloth, and scale the heights to obtain it from the village, at any price. While three or four sallied off we rested on the ground, quite worn out. In about an hour the foraging party returned with the glorious tidings that food was plentiful; that the village we saw was called, "Welled Nzogera's"--the son of Nzogera--by which, of course, we knew that we were in Uvinza, Nzogera being the principal chief in Uvinza. We were further informed that Nzogera, the father, was at war with Lokanda-Mire, about some salt-pans in the valley of the Malagarazi, and that it would be difficult to go to Ujiji by the usual road, owing to this war; but, for a consideration, the son of Nzogera was willing to supply us with guides, who would take us safely, by a northern road, to Ujiji.

Everything auguring well for our prospects, we encamped to enjoy the good cheer, for which our troubles and privations, during the transit of the Ukawendi forests and jungles, had well prepared us.

I am now going to extract from my Diary of the march, as, without its aid, I deem it impossible to relate fully our various experiences, so as to show them properly as they occurred to us; and as these extracts were written and recorded at the close of each day, they possess more interest, in my opinion, than a cold relation of facts, now toned down in memory.

October 31st. Tuesday.--Our road led E.N.E. for a considerable time after leaving the base of the triangular mountain whereon the son of Nzogera has established his stronghold, in order to avoid a deep and impassable portion of marsh, that stood between us and the direct route to the Malagarazi River. The valley sloped rapidly to this marsh, which received in its broad bosom the drainage of three extensive ranges. Soon we turned our faces northwest, and prepared to cross the marsh; and the guides informed us, as we halted on its eastern bank, of a terrible catastrophe which occurred a few yards above where we were preparing to cross. They told of an Arab and his caravan, consisting of thirty-five slaves, who had suddenly sunk out of sight, and who were never more heard of. This marsh, as it appeared to us, presented a breadth of some hundreds of yards, on which grew a close network of grass, with much decayed matter mixed up with it. In the centre of this, and underneath it, ran a broad, deep, and rapid stream. As the guides proceeded across, the men stole after them with cautious footsteps. As they arrived near the centre we began to see this unstable grassy bridge, so curiously provided by nature for us, move up and down in heavy languid undulations, like the swell of the sea after a storm. Where the two asses of the Expedition moved, the grassy waves rose a foot high; but suddenly one unfortunate animal plunged his feet through, and as he was unable to rise, he soon made a deep hollow, which was rapidly filling with water. With the aid of ten men, however, we were enabled to lift him bodily up and land him on a firmer part, and guiding them both across rapidly, the entire caravan crossed without accident.

On arriving at the other side, we struck off to the north, and found ourselves in a delightful country, in every way suitable for agriculturists. Great rocks rose here and there, but in their fissures rose stately trees, under whose umbrage nestled the villages of the people. We found the various village elders greedy for cloth, but the presence of the younger son of Nzogera's men restrained their propensity for extortion. Goats and sheep were remarkably cheap, and in good condition; and, consequently, to celebrate our arrival near the Malagarazi, a flock of eight goats was slaughtered, and distributed to the men.

November 1st.--Striking north-west, after leaving our camp, and descending the slope of a mountain, we soon beheld the anxiously looked-for Malagarazi, a narrow but deep stream, flowing through a valley pent in by lofty mountains. Fish-eating birds lined the trees on its banks; villages were thickly scattered about. Food was abundant and cheap.

After travelling along the left bank of the river a few miles, we arrived at the settlements recognizing Kiala as their ruler. I had anticipated we should be able at once to cross the river, but difficulties arose. We were told to camp, before any negotiations could be entered into. When we demurred, we were informed we might cross the river if we wished, but we should not be assisted by any Mvinza.

Being compelled to halt for this day, the tent was pitched in the middle of one of the villages, and the bales were stored in one of the huts, with four soldiers to guard them. After despatching an embassy to Kiala, eldest son of the great chief Nzogera, to request permission to cross the river as a peaceable caravan, Kiala sent word that the white man should cross his river after the payment of fifty-six cloths! Fifty-six cloths signified a bale nearly!

Here was another opportunity for diplomacy. Bombay and Asmani were empowered to treat with Kiala about the honga, but it was not to exceed twenty-five doti. At 6 A.M., having spoken for seven hours, the two men returned, with the demand for thirteen doti for Nzogera, and ten doti for Kiala. Poor Bombay was hoarse, but Asmani still smiled; and I relented, congratulating myself that the preposterous demand, which was simply robbery, was no worse.

Three hours later another demand was made. Kiala had been visited by a couple of chiefs from his father; and the chiefs being told that a white man was at the ferry, put in a claim for a couple of guns and a keg of gunpowder. But here my patience was exhausted, and I declared that they should have to take them by force, for I would never consent to be robbed and despoiled after any such fashion.

Until 11 P.M., Bombay and Asmani were negotiating about this extra demand, arguing, quarreling, threatening, until Bombay declared they would talk him mad if it lasted much longer. I told Bombay to take two cloths, one for each chief, and, if they did not consider it enough, then I should fight. The present was taken, and the negotiations were terminated at midnight.

November 2nd.--Ihata Island, one and a half hour west of Kiala's. We arrived before the Island of Ihata, on the left bank of the Malagarazi, at 5 p.m.; the morning having been wasted in puerile talk with the owner of the canoes at the ferry. The final demand for ferriage across was eight yards of cloth and four fundo* of sami-sami, or red beads; which was at once paid. Four men, with their loads, were permitted to cross in the small, unshapely, and cranky canoes. When the boatmen had discharged their canoes of their passengers and cargoes, they were ordered to halt on the other side, and, to my astonishment, another demand was made. The ferrymen had found that two fundo of these were of short measure, and two fundo more must be paid, otherwise the contract for ferrying us across would be considered null and void. So two fundo more were added, but not without demur and much "talk," which in these lands is necessary.

** 4 fundo == 40 necklaces; 1 fundo being 10 necklaces.

Three times the canoes went backwards and forwards, when, lo! another demand was made, with the usual clamour and fierce wordy dispute; this time for five khete # for the man who guided us to the ferry, a shukka of cloth for a babbler, who had attached himself to the old-womanish Jumah, who did nothing but babble and increase the clamor. These demands were also settled.

# Necklaces.

About sunset we endeavoured to cross the donkeys. "Simba," a fine wild Kinyamwezi donkey, went in first, with a rope attached to his neck. He had arrived at the middle of the stream when we saw him begin to struggle--a crocodile had seized him by the throat. The poor animal's struggles were terrific. Chowpereh was dragging on the rope with all his might, but to no use, for the donkey sank, and we saw no more of him. The depth of the river at this place was about fifteen feet. We had seen the light-brown heads, the glittering eyes, and the ridgy backs, hovering about the vicinity, but we had never thought that the reptiles would advance so near such an exciting scene as the vicinity of the ferry presented during the crossing. Saddened a little by this loss, we resumed our work, and by 7 P.M. we were all across, excepting Bombay and the only donkey now left, which was to be brought across in the morning, when the crocodiles should have deserted the river.

November 3rd.--What contention have we not been a witness to these last three days! What anxiety have we not suffered ever since our arrival in Uvinza! The Wavinza are worse than the Wagogo, and their greed is more insatiable. We got the donkey across with the aid of a mganga, or medicine man, who spat some chewed leaves of a tree which grows close to the stream over him. He informed me he could cross the river at any time, day or night, after rubbing his body with these chewed leaves, which he believed to be a most potent medicine.

About 10 A.M. appeared from the direction of Ujiji a caravan of eighty Waguhha, a tribe which occupies a tract of country on the south-western side of the Lake Tanganika. We asked the news, and were told a white man had just arrived at Ujiji from Manyuema. This news startled us all.

"A white man?" we asked.

"Yes, a white man," they replied.

"How is he dressed?"

"Like the master," they answered, referring to me.

"Is he young, or old?"

"He is old. He has white hair on his face, and is sick."

"Where has he come from?"

"From a very far country away beyond Uguhha, called Manyuema."

"Indeed! and is he stopping at Ujiji now?"

"Yes, we saw him about eight days ago."

"Do you think he will stop there until we see him?"

"Sigue" (don't know).

"Was he ever at Ujiji before?"

"Yes, he went away a long time ago."

Hurrah! This is Livingstone! He must be Livingstone! He can be no other; but still;--he may be some one else--some one from the West Coast--or perhaps he is Baker! No; Baker has no white hair on his face. But we must now march quick, lest he hears we are coming, and runs away.

I addressed my men, and asked them if they were willing to march to Ujiji without a single halt, and then promised them, if they acceded to my wishes, two doti each man. All answered in the affirmative, almost as much rejoiced as I was myself. But I was madly rejoiced; intensely eager to resolve the burning question, "Is it Dr. David Livingstone?" God grant me patience, but I do wish there was a railroad, or, at least, horses in this country.

We set out at once from the banks of the Malagarazi, accompanied by two guides furnished us by Usenge, the old man of the ferry, who, now that we had crossed, showed himself more amiably disposed to us. We arrived at the village of Isinga, Sultan Katalambula, after a little over an hour's march across a saline plain, but which as we advanced into the interior became fertile and productive.

November 4th.--Started early with great caution, maintaining deep silence. The guides were sent forward, one two hundred yards ahead of the other, that we might be warned in time. The first part of the march was through a thin jungle of dwarf trees, which got thinner and thinner until finally it vanished altogether, and we had entered Uhha--a plain country. Villages were visible by the score among the tall bleached stalks of dourra and maize. Sometimes three, sometimes five, ten, or twenty beehive-shaped huts formed a village. The Wahha were evidently living in perfect security, for not one village amongst them all was surrounded with the customary defence of an African village. A narrow dry ditch formed the only boundary between Uhha and Uvinza. On entering Uhha, all danger from Makumbi vanished.

We halted at Kawanga, the chief of which lost no time in making us understand that he was the great Mutware of Kimenyi under the king, and that he was the tribute gatherer for his Kiha majesty. He declared that he was the only one in Kimenyi--an eastern division of Uhha--who could demand tribute; and that it would be very satisfactory to him, and a saving of trouble to ourselves, if we settled his claim of twelve doti of good cloths at once. We did not think it the best way of proceeding, knowing as we did the character of the native African; so we at once proceeded to diminish this demand; but, after six hours' hot argument, the Mutware only reduced it by two. This claim was then settled, upon the understanding that we should be allowed to travel through Uhha as far as the Rusugi River without being further mulcted.

November 5th.--Leaving Kawanga early in the morning and continuing our march over the boundless plains, which were bleached white by the hot equatorial sun, we were marching westward full of pleasant anticipations that we were nearing the end of our troubles, joyfully congratulating ourselves that within five days we should see that which I had come so far from civilisation, and through so many difficulties, to see, and were about passing a cluster of villages, with all the confidence which men possess against whom no one had further claim or a word to say, when I noticed two men darting from a group of natives who were watching us, and running towards the head of the Expedition, with the object, evidently, of preventing further progress.

The caravan stopped, and I walked forward to ascertain the cause from the two natives. I was greeted politely by the two Wahha with the usual "Yambos," and was then asked, "Why does the white man pass by the village of the King of Uhha without salutation and a gift? Does not the white man know there lives a king in Uhha, to whom the Wangwana and Arabs pay something for right of passage?"

"Why, we paid last night to the chief of Kawanga, who informed us that he was the man deputed by the King of Uhha to collect the toll."

"How much did you pay?"

"Ten doti of good cloth."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. If you ask him, he will tell you so."

"Well," said one of the Wahha, a fine, handsome, intelligent-looking youth, "it is our duty to the king to halt you here until we find out the truth of this. Will you walk to our village, and rest yourselves under the shade of our trees until we can send messengers to Kawanga?"

"No; the sun is but an hour high, and we have far to travel; but, in order to show you we do not seek to pass through your country without doing that which is right, we will rest where we now stand, and we will send with your messengers two of our soldiers, who will show you the man to whom we paid the cloth."

The messengers departed; but, in the meantime, the handsome youth, who turned out to be the nephew of the King, whispered some order to a lad, who immediately hastened away, with the speed of an antelope, to the cluster of villages which we had just passed. The result of this errand, as we saw in a short time, was the approach of a body of warriors, about fifty in number, headed by a tall, fine-looking man, who was dressed in a crimson robe called Joho, two ends of which were tied in a knot over the left shoulder; a new piece of American sheeting was folded like a turban around his head, and a large curved piece of polished ivory was suspended to his neck. He and his people were all armed with spears, and bows and arrows, and their advance was marked with a deliberation that showed they felt confidence in any issue that might transpire.

We were halted on the eastern side of the Pombwe stream, near the village of Lukomo, in Kimenyi, Uhha. The gorgeously-dressed chief was a remarkable man in appearance. His face was oval in form, high cheek-bones, eyes deeply sunk, a prominent and bold forehead, a fine nose, and a well-cut mouth; he was tall in figure, and perfectly symmetrical.

When near to us, he hailed me with the words,

"Yambo, bana?--How do you do, master?" in quite a cordial tone.

I replied cordially also, "Yambo, mutware?--How do you do, chief?"

We, myself and men, interchanged "Yambos" with his warriors; and there was nothing in our first introduction to indicate that the meeting was of a hostile character.

The chief seated himself, his haunches resting on his heels, laying down his bow and arrows by his side; his men did likewise.

I seated myself on a bale, and each of my men sat down on their loads, forming quite a semicircle. The Wahha slightly outnumbered my party; but, while they were only armed with bows and arrows, spears, and knob-sticks, we were armed with rifles, muskets, revolvers, pistols, and hatchets.

All were seated, and deep silence was maintained by the assembly. The great plains around us were as still in this bright noon as if they were deserted of all living creatures. Then the chief spoke:

"I am Mionvu, the great Mutware of Kimenyi, and am next to the King, who lives yonder," pointing to a large village near some naked hills about ten miles to the north. "I have come to talk with the white man. It has always been the custom of the Arabs and the Wangwana to make a present to the King when they pass through his country. Does not the white man mean to pay the King's dues? Why does the white man halt in the road? Why will he not enter the village of Lukomo, where there is food and shade--where we can discuss this thing quietly? Does the white man mean to fight? I know well he is stronger than we are. His men have guns, and the Wahha have but bows and arrows, and spears; but Uhha is large, and our villages are many. Let him look about him everywhere--all is Uhha, and our country extends much further than he can see or walk in a day. The King of Uhha is strong; yet he wishes friendship only with the white man. Will the white man have war or peace?"

A deep murmur of assent followed this speech of Mionvu from his people, and disapprobation, blended with a certain uneasiness; from my men. When about replying, the words of General Sherman, which I heard him utter to the chiefs of the Arapahoes and Cheyennes at North Platte, in 1867, came to my mind; and something of their spirit I embodied in my reply to Mionvu, Mutware of Kimenyi.

"Mionvu, the great Mutware, asks me if I have come for war. When did Mionvu ever hear of white men warring against black men? Mionvu must understand that the white men are different from the black. White men do not leave their country to fight the black people, neither do they come here to buy ivory or slaves. They come to make friends with black people; they come to search for rivers; and lakes, and mountains; they come to discover what countries, what peoples, what rivers, what lakes, what forests, what plains, what mountains and hills are in your country; to know the different animals that are in the land of the black people, that, when they go back, they may tell the white kings, and men, and children, what they have seen and heard in the land so far from them. The white people are different from the Arabs and Wangwana; the white people know everything, and are very strong. When they fight, the Arabs and the Wangwana run away. We have great guns which thunder, and when they shoot the earth trembles; we have guns which carry bullets further than you can see: even with these little things" (pointing to my revolvers) "I could kill ten men quicker than you could count. We are stronger than the Wahha. Mionvu has spoken the truth, yet we do not wish to fight. I could kill Mionvu now, yet I talk to him as to a friend. I wish to be a friend to Mionvu, and to all black people. Will Mionvu say what I can do for him?"

As these words were translated to him--imperfectly, I suppose, but still, intelligibly--the face of the Wahha showed how well they appreciated them. Once or twice I thought I detected something like fear, but my assertions that I desired peace and friendship with them soon obliterated all such feelings.

Mionvu replied:

"The white man tells me he is friendly. Why does he not come to our village? Why does he stop on the road? The sun is hot. Mionvu will not speak here any more. If the white man is a friend he will come to the village."

"We must stop now. It is noon. You have broken our march. We will go and camp in your village," I said, at the same time rising and pointing to the men to take up their loads.

We were compelled to camp; there was no help for it; the messengers had not returned from Kawanga. Having arrived in his village, Mionvu had cast himself at full length under the scanty shade afforded by a few trees within the boma. About 2 P.M. the messengers returned, saying it was true the chief of Kawanga had taken ten cloths; not, however for the King of Uhha, but for himself!

Mionvu, who evidently was keen-witted, and knew perfectly what he was about, now roused himself, and began to make miniature faggots of thin canes, ten in each faggot, and shortly he presented ten of these small bundles, which together contained one hundred, to me, saying each stick represented a cloth, and the amount of the "honga" required by the King of Uhha was ONE HUNDRED CLOTHS!--nearly two bales!

Recovering from our astonishment, which was almost indescribable, we offered TEN.

"Ten! to the King of Uhha! Impossible. You do not stir from Lukomo until you pay us one hundred!" exclaimed Mionvu, in a significant manner.

I returned no answer, but went to my hut, which Mionvu had cleared for my use, and Bombay, Asmani, Mabruki, and Chowpereh were invited--to come to me for consultation. Upon my asking them if we could not fight our way through Uhha, they became terror-stricken, and Bombay, in imploring accents, asked me to think well what I was about to do, because it was useless to enter on a war with the Wahha. "Uhha is all a plain country; we cannot hide anywhere. Every village will rise all about us, and how can forty-five men fight thousands of people? They would kill us all in a few minutes, and how would you ever reach Ujiji if you died? Think of it, my dear master, and do not throw your life away for a few rags of cloth."

"Well, but, Bombay, this is robbery. Shall we submit to be robbed? Shall we give this fellow everything he asks? He might as well ask me for all the cloth, and all my guns, without letting him see that we can fight. I can kill Mionvu and his principal men myself, and you can slay all those howlers out there without much trouble. If Mionvu and his principal were dead we should not be troubled much, and we could strike south to the Mala-garazi, and go west to Ujiji."

"No, no, dear master, don't think of it for a moment. If we went neat the Malagarazi we should come across Lokanda-Mira."

"Well, then, we will go north."

"Up that way Uhha extends far; and beyond Uhha are the Watuta."

"Well, then, say what we shall do. We must do something; but we must not be robbed."

"Pay Mionvu what he asks, and let us go away from here. This is the last place we shall have to pay. And in four days we shall be in Ujiji."

"Did Mionvu tell you that this is the last time we would have to pay?"

"He did, indeed."

"What do you say, Asmani? Shall we fight or pay?" Asmani's face wore the usual smile, but he replied,

"I am afraid we must pay. This is positively the last time."

"And you, Chowpereh?"

"Pay, bana; it is better to get along quietly in this country. If we were strong enough they would pay us. Ah, if we had only two hundred guns, how these Wahha would run!"

"What do you say, Mabruki?"

"Ah, master, dear master; it is very hard, and these people are great robbers. I would like to chop their heads off, all; so I would. But you had better pay. This is the last time; and what are one hundred cloths to you?"

"Well, then, Bombay and Asmani, go to Mionvu, and offer him twenty. If he will not take twenty, give him thirty. If he refuses thirty, give him forty; then go up to eighty, slowly. Make plenty of talk; not one doti more. I swear to you I will shoot Mionvu if he demands more than eighty. Go, and remember to be wise."