Chapter I (14)

After a short and eventless march, on the 26th December, to Masenge, I reached on the following day the little clearing of Kirira. I was unexpectedly welcomed by two Arabs, Masud ibn Musallam el Wardi, and Hamid bin Ibrahim el Amuri. The former, an old man of the Beni Bu Ali clan, and personally familiar with Sir Lionel Smith’s exploits, led me into the settlement, which was heaped round with a tall green growth of milkbush, and placed me upon a cartel in the cool and spacious barzah or vestibule of the Tembe. From my vantage-ground I enjoyed the pleasant prospect of those many little miseries which Orientals--perhaps not only Orientals--create for themselves by “ceremony” and “politeness.” Weary and fagged by sun and dust, the Baloch were kept standing for nearly half an hour before the preliminaries to sitting down could be arranged and the party could be marshalled in proper order,--the most honourable man on the left hand of the host, and the “lower class” off the dais or raised step;--and, when they commenced to squat, they reposed upon their shins, and could not remove their arms or accoutrements till especially invited to hang them up. Hungry and thirsty, they dared not commit the solecism of asking for food or drink; they waited from 9 A.M. till noon, sometimes eyeing the door with wistful looks, but generally affecting an extreme indifference as to feeding. At length came the meal, a mountain of rice, capped with little boulders of mutton. It was allowed to cool long before precedence round the tray was settled, and ere the grace, “Bismillah,”--the signal to “set to,”--was reverentially asked by Said bin Salim. Followed a preparation of curdled milk, for which spoons being requisite, a wooden ladle did the necessary. There was much bustling and not a little importance about Hamid, the younger host, a bilious subject twenty-four or twenty-five years old, who for reasons best known to himself assumed the style and title of Sarkal,--Government servant. The meal concluded with becoming haste, and was followed by that agreeable appearance of repletion which is so pleasing to the Oriental Amphitryon. The Baloch returned to squat upon their shins, and they must have suffered agonies till 5 P.M., when the appearance of a second and a more ceremonious repast enabled them once more to perch upon their heels. It was hard eating this time; the shorwa, or mutton broth, thickened with melted butter, attracted admiration; the guests, however, could only hint at its excellences, because in the East if you praise a man’s meat you intend to slight his society. The _plat de résistance_ was, as usual, the pillaw, or, as it is here called, pulao,--not the conventional mess of rice and fowl, almonds and raisins, onion-shreds, cardomoms, and other abominations, which goes by that name amongst Anglo-Indians, but a solid heap of rice, boiled after being greased with a handful of ghee--

(I must here indulge in a little digression. For the past century, which concluded with reducing India to the rank of a British province, the proud invader has eaten her rice after a fashion which has secured for him the contempt of the East. He deliberately boils it, and after drawing off the nutritious starch or gluten called “conjee,” which forms the perquisite of his Portuguese or his Pariah cook, he is fain to fill himself with that which has become little more nutritious than the prodigal’s husks. Great, indeed, is the invader’s ignorance upon that point. Peace be to the manes of Lord Macaulay, but listen to and wonder at his eloquent words!--“The Sepoys came to Clive, not to complain of their scanty fare, but to propose that all the grain should be given to the Europeans, who required more nourishment than the natives of Asia. The thin gruel, they said, which was strained away from the rice would suffice for themselves. History contains no more touching instance of military fidelity, or of the influence of a commanding mind.” Indians never fail to drink the “conjee.” The Arab, on the other hand, mingles with his rice a sufficiency of ghee to prevent the extraction of the “thin gruel,” and thus makes the grain as palatable and as nutritious as Nature intended it to be.)

--and dotted over with morsels of fowl, so boiled that they shredded like yarn under the teeth. This repast again concluded with a bowl of sweetened milk, and other entremets, for which both hosts amply apologised; the house had lately been burned down, and honey had been used instead of sugar. The day concluded with prayers, with a seance in the verandah and with drinking fresh milk out of gourds--a state of things which again demanded excuses. A multitude of “Washenzi” thronged into the house, especially during the afternoon, to gaze at the Muzungu. I was formally presented to the Sultan Kafrira, a tall and wrinkled elder, celebrated for ready wits and spear. The sons of Ramji had often looked in at the door whilst preparations for feeding were going on, but they were not asked to sit down: the haughty host had provided them with a lean goat, in return for which they privily expressed an opinion that he was a “dog.” Masud, boasting of his intimacy with the Sultan Msimbira, whose subjects had plundered our portmanteau, offered on return to Unyanyembe his personal services in ransoming it. I accepted with joy; but the Shaykh Masud, as afterwards proved, nearly “left his skin” in the undertaking.

The climate of Kíríra is called by the Arabs a medicine. They vaunt its virtues, which become apparent after the unhealthy air of Kazeh, and after a delicious night spent in the cool barzah, I had no reason to question its reputation. I arose in the morning wonderfully refreshed, and Valentine, who had been prostrated with fever throughout the day, became another man. Yet the situation was apparently unpropitious; the Gombe Nullah, the main drain of this region, a line of stagnant pools, belted with almost impassable vegetation, lies hard by, and the background is an expanse of densest jungle.

Three short and eventless marches through thick jungle, with scattered clearings, led me, on the 30th December, to the district of Msene, where the dense wild growth lately traversed suddenly opens out and discloses to the west a broad view of admirable fertility. Before entering the settlements, the caravan halted, as usual, to form up. We then progressed with the usual pomp and circumstance; the noise was terrific, and the streets, or rather the spaces between the houses, were lined with Negroid spectators. I was led to the Tembe of one Saadullah, a low-caste Msawahili, and there found my companion looking but poorly. Gaetano, his “boy,” was so excited by the scene, that he fell down in a fit closely resembling epilepsy.

Msene, the chief Bandari of Western Unyamwezi, may be called the capital of the Coast Arabs and the Wasawahili, who, having a natural antipathy to their brethren of Oman, have abandoned to them Unyanyembe and its vicinity. Of late years, however, the Omani merchants, having been driven from the neighbouring districts by sundry murders into Msene, may at times be met there to the number of four or five. The inhabitants are chiefly Wasumbwá, a subtribe of the Wanyamwezi race. There is, however, besides Arabs and Wasawahili, a large floating population of the pastoral clan called Watosi, and fugitives from Uhha. In 1858 the chief of Msene was the Sultan Masanza. Both he and Funza, his brother, were hospitable and friendly to travellers, especially to the Arabs, who but a few years ago beat off with their armed slaves a large plundering party of the ferocious Watuta. This chief has considerable power, and the heads of many criminals elevated upon poles in front of his several villages show that he rules with a firm hand. He is never approached by a subject without the clapping of hands and the kneeling which in these lands are the honours paid to royalty. He was a large-limbed, gaunt, and sinewy old man, dressed in a dirty Subai or Arab check, over a coating of rancid butter, with a broad brass disk, neatly arabesqued, round his neck, with a multitude of little pigtails where his head was not bald, and with some thirty sambo or flexible wire rings deforming, as if by elephantiasis, his ankles. Like the generality of sultans, he despises beads as an article of decoration, preferring coils of brass or copper. He called several times at the house occupied by the Expedition, and on more than one occasion brought with him a bevy of wives, whose deportment was, I regret to say, rather naïve than decorous.

Msene, like Unyanyembe, is not a town, but a mass of detached settlements, which are unconscious of a regular street. To the northwards lie the villages of the Sultan--Kwihángá and Yovu. These are surrounded with a strong stockade, a deep moat, and a thick milk-bush hedge, intended for defence. The interior is occupied by thatched circular huts, divided by open squarelike spaces, and wynds and alleys are formed by milk-bush hedges and palisades. There are distinct places for the several wives, families, and slaves. The other settlements--Mbugání (“in the wild”) and Mji Mpia (“new town”), the latter being the place affected by the Wasawahili--cluster in a circle, separated by short cross-roads, which after rain are ankle-deep in mud, from Chyámbo, the favourite locale of the Coast Arabs. This settlement, which contained in 1858 nine large Tembe and about 150 huts, boasts of an African attempt at a soko or bazar, a clear space between the houses, where, in fine weather, bullocks are daily slaughtered for food, and where grain, vegetables, and milk are exposed for sale. At Msene a fresh outfit of cloth, beads, and wire can be procured for a price somewhat higher than at Unyanyembe. The merchants have small stores of drugs and spices, and sometimes a few comforts, as coffee, tea, and sugar. The latter is generally made of granulated honey, and therefore called sukárí zá ásalí. The climate of Msene is damp, the neighbouring hills and the thickly-vegetated country attracting an abundance of rain. It is exceedingly unhealthy, the result doubtless of filth in the villages and stagnant waters spread over the land. The Gombe Nullah, which runs through the district, about six hours’ march from the settlements, discharges after rain its superfluous contents into the many lakelets, ponds, and swamps of the lowlands. Fertilised by a wet monsoon, whose floods from the middle of October to May are interrupted only by bursts of fervent heat, the fat, black soil manured by the decay of centuries, reproduces abundantly anything committed to it. Flowers bloom spontaneously over the flats, and trees put forth their richest raiment. Rice of the red quality--the white is rare and dear--grows with a density and a rapidity unknown in Eastern Unyamwezi. Holcus and millet, maize and manioc, are plentiful enough to be exported. Magnificent palmyras, bauhinias and sycomores, plantains, and papaws, and a host of wild fruit-trees, especially the tamarind, which is extensively used, adorn the land. The other productions are onions, sweet potatoes, and egg-plants, which are cultivated; turmeric, brought from the vicinity; tomatos and bird-pepper, which grow wild; pulse, beans, pumpkins, water-melons, excellent mushrooms, and edible fungi. Milk, poultry, honey, and tobacco are cheap and plentiful. The currency at Msene in 1858--the date is specified, as the medium is liable to perpetual and sudden change, often causing severe losses to merchants, who, after laying in a large outfit of certain beads, find them suddenly unfashionable, and therefore useless--was the “pipe-stem,” white and blue porcelain-beads, called sofi in the string, and individually msaro. Of these ten were sufficient to purchase a pound of beef. The other beads in demand were the sungomaji, or pigeon-egg, the red-coral, the pink-porcelain, and the shell-decorations called kiwangwa. The cheaper varieties may be exchanged for grain and vegetables, but they will not purchase fowls, milk, and eggs. At this place only, the palmyra is tapped for toddy; in other parts of East Africa the people are unable to climb it. The market at Msene is usually somewhat cheaper than that of Unyanyembe, but at times the prices become very exorbitant.

The industry of Msene is confined to manufacturing a few cotton cloths, coarse mats, clay pipeheads, and ironmongery. As might be expected from the constitution of its society, Msene is a place of gross debauchery, most grateful to the African mind. All, from sultan to slave, are intoxicated whenever the material is forthcoming, and the relations between the sexes are of the loosest description. The drum is never silent, and the dance fills up the spare intervals of carouse, till exhausted nature can no more. The consequence is, that caravans invariably lose numbers by desertion when passing through Msene. Even household slaves, born and bred upon the coast, cannot tear themselves from its Circean charms.

There was “cold comfort” at Msene, where I was delayed twelve days. The clay roof of the Tembe was weed-grown like a deserted grave, and in the foul patio or central court-yard only dirty puddles set in black mud met the eye. The weather was what only they can realise who are familiar with a “Rainy Monsoon.” The temptations of the town rendered it almost impossible to keep a servant or a slave within doors; the sons of Ramji vigorously engaged themselves in trading, and Muinyi Wazira in a debauch, which ended in his dismissal. Gaetano had repeated epileptic fits, and Valentine rushed into the room half-crying to show a white animalcule--in this country called Funza--which had lately issued from his “buff.” None of the half-caste Arabs, except I’d and Khalfan, sons of Muallim Salim, the youths who had spread evil reports concerning us in Ugogo and elsewhere, called or showed any civility, and the only Arab at that time resident at Msene was the old Salim bin Masud. I received several visits from the Sultan Masanza. His first greeting was, “White man, what pretty thing hast thou brought up from the shore for me?” He presented a bullock, and received in return several cloths and strings of beads, and he introduced to us a variety of princesses, who returned the salutes of the Baloch and others with a wild effusion. As Christmas-day had been spent in marching, I hailed the opportunity of celebrating the advent of the New Year. Said bin Salim, the Jemadar, and several of the guard, were invited to an English dinner on a fair sirloin of beef, and a curious succedaneum for a plum-pudding, where neither flour nor currants were to be found. A characteristic trait manifested itself on this occasion. Amongst Arabs, the remnants of a feast must always be distributed to the servants and slaves of the guests;--a “brass knocker” would lose a man’s reputation. Knowing this, I had ordered the Goanese to do in Rome as the Romans do; and being acquainted with their peculiarities, I paid them an unexpected visit, where they were found so absorbed in the task of hiding, under pots and pans, every better morsel from a crowd of hungry peerers that the interruption of a stick was deemed necessary.

At length, on the 10th January, 1858, I left Msene with considerable difficulty. The Kirangozi, or guide, who had promised to accompany me, had sent an incompetent substitute, his brother, a raw young lad, who had no power to collect porters. The sons of Ramji positively refused to lend their aid in strengthening the gang. One of Said bin Salim’s children, the boy Faraj, had fled to Kazeh. The bull-headed Mabruki was brought back from flight only by the persuasion of his brother “Bombay,” and even “Bombay,” under the influence of some negroid Neæra, at the time of departure hid himself in his hut. All feared the march westwards. A long strip of blue hill lying northwards ever keeps the traveller in mind of the robber Watuta, and in places where the clans are mixed, all are equally hostile to strangers. Villages are less frequented and more meanly built, and caravans are not admitted beyond the faubourgs--the miserable huts outlying the fences. The land also is most unhealthy. After the rain, the rich dark loam becomes, like the black soils of Guzerat and the Deccan, a coat of viscid mire. Above is a canopy of cumulus and purple nimbus, that discharge their loads in copious day-long floods. The vegetation is excessive, and where there is no cultivation a dense matting of coarse grass, laid by wind and water and decayed by mud, veils the earth, and from below rises a clammy chill, like the thaw-cold of England, the effect of extreme humidity. And, finally, the paths are mere lines, pitted with deep holes, and worn by cattle through the jungle.

After an hour and thirty minutes’ march I entered Mb’hali, the normal cultivator’s village in Western Unyamwezi;--a heap of dwarf huts like inverted birds’ nests surrounding a central space, and surrounded by giant heaps of euphorbia or milk-bush. Tall grasses were growing almost up to the door-ways, and about the settlement were scattered papaws and plantains; the Mwongo, with its damson-like fruit, the Mtogwe or wood-apple tree, and the tall solitary Palmyra, whose high columnar stem, with its graceful central swell, was eminently attractive. We did not delay at Mb’hali, whence provisions had been exhausted by the markets of Msene. The 11th January led us through a dense jungle upon a dead flat, succeeded by rolling ground bordered with low hills and covered with alternate bush and cultivation, to Sengati, another similar verdure-clad village of peasantry, where rice and other supplies were procurable. On the 12th January, after passing over a dead flat of fields and of the rankest grass, we entered rolling ground in the vicinity of the Gombe Nullah, with scattered huts upon the rises, and villages built close to the dense vegetation bordering upon the stream. Sorora or Solola is one of the deadliest spots in Unyamwezi; we were delayed there, however, three long days, by the necessity of collecting a two months’ supply of rice, which is rarely to be obtained further west.

The non-appearance of the sons of Ramji rendered it necessary to take a strong step. I could ill afford the loss of twelve guns, but Kidogo and his men had become insufferable: moreover, they had openly boasted that they intended to prevent my embarking upon the “Sea of Ujiji.” Despite therefore the persuasions of the Jemadar and Said bin Salim, who looked as if they had heard their death-warrants, I summoned the slaves, who first condescended to appear on the 13th January--three days after my departure,--informed them that the six months for which they were engaged and paid had expired, and that they had better return and transact their proprietor’s business at Kazeh. They changed, it is true, their tone and manner, pathetically pleaded, as an excuse for their ill conduct, that they were slaves, and promised in future to be the most obedient of servants. But they had deceived me too often, and I feared that, if led forwards, they might compromise the success of the exploration. They were therefore formally dismissed, with a supply of cloth and beads sufficient to reach Kazeh, a letter to their master, and another paper to Snay bin Amir, authorising him to frank them to their homes. Kidogo departed, declaring that he would carry off perforce, if necessary, the four donkey-drivers who had been engaged and paid for the journey to the “Sea of Ujiji” and back: as two of these men, Nasibu and Hassani, openly threatened to desert, they were at once put in irons and entrusted to the Baloch. They took oaths on the Koran, and, by strong swearing, persuaded Said bin Salim and their guard to obtain my permission for their release. I gave it unwillingly, and on the next march they “levanted,” carrying off, as runaway slaves are wont to do, a knife, some cloth, and other necessaries belonging to Sangora, a brother donkey-driver. Sangora returning without leave, to recover his goods, was seized, tied up, and severely fustigated by the inexorable Kidogo, for daring to be retained whilst he himself was dismissed.

The Kirangozi and Bombay having rejoined at Sorora, the Expedition left it on the 16th January. Traversing a fetid marsh, the road plunged into a forest, and crossed a sharp elbow of the Gombe Nullah, upon whose grassy and reedy banks lay a few dilapidated “baumrinden” canoes, showing that at times the bed becomes unfordable. Having passed that night at Ukungwe, and the next at Panda, dirty little villages, where the main of the people’s diet seemed to be mushrooms resembling ours and a large white fungus growing over the grassy rises, on the 18th January we entered Kajjanjeri.

Kajjanjeri appeared in the shape of a circle of round huts. Its climate is ever the terror of travellers: to judge from the mud and vegetation covering the floors, the cultivators of the fields around usually retire to another place during the rainy season. Here a formidable obstacle to progress presented itself. I had been suffering for some days: the miasmatic air of Sorora had sown the seeds of fresh illness. About 3 P.M., I was obliged to lay aside the ephemeris by an unusual sensation of nervous irritability, which was followed by a general shudder as in the cold paroxysm of fevers. Presently the extremities began to weigh and to burn as if exposed to a glowing fire, and a pair of jack-boots, the companions of many a day and night, became too tight and heavy to wear. At sunset, the attack had reached its height. I saw yawning wide to receive me

“those dark gates across the wild
That no man knows.”

The whole body was palsied, powerless, motionless, and the limbs appeared to wither and die; the feet had lost all sensation, except a throbbing and tingling, as if pricked by a number of needle points; the arms refused to be directed by will, and to the hands the touch of cloth and stone was the same. Gradually the attack seemed to spread upwards till it compressed the ribs; there, however, it stopped short.

This, at a distance of two months from medical aid, and with the principal labour of the Expedition still in prospect! However, I was easily consoled. Hope, says the Arab, is woman, Despair is man. If one of us was lost, the other might survive to carry home the results of the exploration. I had undertaken the journey in the “nothing-like-leather” state of mind, with the resolve either to do or die. I had done my best, and now nothing appeared to remain for me but to die as well.

Said bin Salim, when sent for, declared, by a “la haul!” the case beyond his skill; it was one of partial paralysis brought on by malaria, with which the faculty in India are familiar. The Arab consulted a Msawahili Fundi, or caravan-guard, who had joined us on the road, and this man declared that a similar accident had once occurred to himself and his little party in consequence of eating poisoned mushrooms. I tried the usual remedies without effect, and the duration of the attack presently revealed what it was. The contraction of the muscles, which were tightened like ligatures above and below the knees, and those λυτα γουνατα, a pathological symptom which the old Greek loves to specify, prevented me from walking to any distance for nearly a year; the numbness of the hands and feet disappeared even more slowly. The Fundi, however, successfully predicted that I should be able to move in ten days--on the tenth I again mounted my ass.

This unforeseen misfortune detained the caravan at Kajjanjeri till porters could be procured for the hammock. On the 21st January four men were with difficulty persuaded to carry me over the first march to Usagozi. This gang was afterwards increased to six men, who severally received six cloths for the journey to Ujiji; they all “bolted” eight days after their engagement, and before completing half the journey. These men were sturdier than the former set of Hammals, but being related to the Sultan of Usagozi, they were even more boisterous, troublesome, and insolent. One of them narrowly escaped a pistol bullet; he ceased, however, stabbing with his dagger at the slave Mabruki before the extreme measure became necessary.

Usagozi was of old the capital province of Unyamwezi, and is still one of its principal and most civilised divisions. Some authorities make Usagozi the western frontier of Unyamwezi, others place the boundary at Mukozimo, a few miles to the westward; it is certain, however, that beyond Usagozi the Wanyamwezi are but part-proprietors of the soil. The country is laid out in alternate seams of grassy plains, dense jungle, and fertile field. The soil is a dark vegetable humus, which bears luxuriant crops of grain, vegetables, and tobacco; honey-logs hang upon every large tree, cattle are sold to travellers, and the people are deterred by the aspect of a dozen discoloured skulls capping tall poles, planted in a semicircle at the main entrance of each settlement, from doing violence to caravans. When I visited Usagozi it was governed by “Sultan Ryombo,” an old chief “adorned with much Christian courtesy.” His subjects are Wakalaganza, the noble tribe of the Wanyamwezi, mixed, however with the Watosi, a fine-looking race, markedly superior to their neighbours, but satisfied with leaky, ragged, and filthy huts, and large but unfenced villages. The general dress of the Wakalaganza is bark-cloth, stained a dull black.

We halted three days on the western extremity of the Usagozi district, detained by another unpleasant phenomenon. My companion, whose blood had been impoverished, and whose system had been reduced by many fevers, now began to suffer from “an inflammation of a low type, affecting the whole of the interior tunic of the eyes, particularly the iris, the choroid coat, and the retina;” he describes it as “an almost total blindness, rendering every object enclouded as by a misty veil.” The Goanese Valentine became similarly afflicted, almost on the same day; he complained of a “drop serene” in the shape of an inky blot--probably some of the black pigment of the iris deposited on the front of the lens--which completely excluded the light of day; yet the pupils contracted with regularity when covered with the hand, and as regularly dilated when it was removed. I suffered in a minor degree; for a few days webs of flitting muscæ obscured smaller objects and rendered distant vision impossible. My companion and servant, however, subsequently, at Ujiji, were tormented by inflammatory ophthalmia, which I escaped by the free use of “camel-medicine.”

Quitting Usagozi on the 26th January, we marched through grain fields, thick jungle-strips, and low grassy and muddy savannahs to Masenza, a large and comfortable village of stray Wagara or Wagala, an extensive tribe, limiting Unyamwezi on the S. and S.E., at the distance of about a week’s march from the road. On the 27th January, after traversing cultivation, thick jungles, and low muddy bottoms of tall grass chequered with lofty tamarinds, we made the large well-palisadoed villages of the Mukozimo district, inhabited by a mixture of Wanyamwezi, with Wagara from the S.E. and Wawende from the S.W. The headman of one of these inhospitable “Kaya,” or fenced hamlets, would not house “men who ride asses.” The next station was Uganza, a populous settlement of Wawende, who admitted us into their faubourg, but refused to supply provisions. The 29th January saw us at the populous and fertile clearing of Usenye, where the mixed races lying between the Land of the Moon eastward, and Uvinza westward, give way to pure Wavinza, who are considered by travellers even more dangerous than their neighbours.

Beyond Usenye we traversed a deep jungle where still lingered remains of villages which had been plundered and burned down by the Wawende and the Watuta, whose hills rose clearly defined on the right hand. Having passed the night at Rukunda, or Lukunda, on the 31st January we sighted the plain of the Malagarazi River. Northwards of the road ran the stream, and the low level of the country adjoining it had converted the bottoms into permanent beds of soft, deep, and slippery mire. The rest of the march was the usual country--jungle, fields, and grasses--and after a toilsome stretch, we unpacked at the settlement of Wanyika.

At Wanyika we were delayed for a day by the necessity of settling Kuhonga, or blackmail, with the envoys of Mzogera. This great man, the principal Sultan of Uvinza, is also the Lord of the Malagarazi River. As he can enforce his claims by forbidding the ferrymen to assist strangers, he must be carefully humoured. He received about forty cloths, white and blue, six Kitindi or coil bracelets, and ten Fundo (or 100 necklaces) of coral beads. It is equivalent in these lands to 50_l._ in England. When all the items had been duly palavered over, we resumed our march on the 2nd February. The road, following an incline towards the valley of the river, in which bush and field alternated with shallow pools, black mud, and putrid grass, led to Unyanguruwwe, a miserable settlement, producing, however, millet in abundance, sweet potatoes, and the finest manioc. On the 3rd February we set out betimes. Spanning cultivation and undulating grassy ground, and passing over hill-opens to avoid the deeper swamps, we debouched from a jungle upon the river-plain, with the swift brown stream, then about fifty yards broad, swirling through the tall wet grasses of its banks on our right hand, hard by the road. Upon the off side a herd of elephants, forming Indian file, slowly broke through the reed-fence in front of them: our purblind eyes mistook them for buffaloes. Northwards lay an expanse of card-table plain, over which the stream, when in flood, debords to the distance of two miles, cutting it with deep creeks and inlets. The flat is bounded in the far offing by a sinuous line of faint blue hills, the haunts of the Watuta; whilst, westward and southward, rises the wall-shaped ridge, stony and wooded, which buttresses the left bank of the river for some days’ journey down the stream. We found lodgings for the night in a little village, called from its district Ugaga; we obtained provisions, and we lost no time in opening the question of ferryage. The Sultan Mzogera had sold his permission to cross the river. The Mutware, or Mutwale, the Lord of the Ferry, now required payment for his canoes.

Whilst delayed at Ugaga by the scabrous question of how much was to be extracted from me, I will enter into a few geographical details concerning the Malagarazi River.

The Malagarazi, corrupted by speculative geographers to Mdjigidgi,--the uneuphonious terminology of the “Mombas Mission Map,”--to “Magrassie” and to “Magozi,” has been wrongly represented to issue from the Sea of Ujiji. According to all travellers in these regions, it arises in the mountains of Urundi, at no great distance from the Kitangure, or River of Karagwah; but whilst the latter, springing from the upper counterslope, feeds the Nyanza or Northern Lake, the Malagarazi, rising in the lower slope of the equatorial range, trends to the south-east, till it becomes entangled in the decline of the Great Central African Depression--the hydrographical basin first indicated in his Address of 1852 by Sir Roderick I. Murchison, President of the Royal Geographical Society of London.[10] Thence it sweeps round the southern base of Urundi, and, deflected westwards, it disembogues itself into the Tanganyika. Its mouth is in the land of Ukaranga, and the long promontory behind which it discharges its waters, is distinctly visible from Kawele, the head-quarters of caravans in Ujiji. The Malagarazi is not navigable; as in primary and transition countries generally, the bed is broken by rapids. Beyond the ferry, the slope becomes more pronounced, branch and channel-islets of sand and verdure divide the stream, and as every village near the banks appears to possess one or more canoes, it is probably unfordable. The main obstacle to crossing it on foot, over the broken and shallower parts near the rock-bars, would be the number and the daring of the crocodiles.

[10] The following notice concerning a discovery which must ever be
remembered as a triumph of geological hypothesis, was kindly forwarded
to me by the discoverer:--

“My speculations as to the whole African interior being a vast watery
plateau-land of some elevation above the sea, but subtended on the
east and west by much higher grounds, were based on the following
data:--

“The discovery in the central portion of the Cape colony, by Mr. Bain,
of fossil remains in a lacustrine deposit of secondary age, and the
well-known existence on the coast of loftier mountains known to be of
a Palæozoic or primary epoch and circling round the younger deposits,
being followed by the exploration of the Ngami Lake, justified me in
believing that Africa had been raised from beneath the ocean at a very
early geological period; and that ever since that time the same
conditions had prevailed. I thence inferred that an interior network
of lakes and rivers would be found prolonged northwards from Lake
Ngami, though at that time no map was known to me showing the
existence of such central reservoirs. Looking to the west as well as
to the east, I saw no possibility of explaining how the great rivers
could escape from the central plateau-lands and enter the ocean except
through deep lateral gorges, formed at some ancient period of
elevation, when the lateral chains were subjected to transverse
fractures. Knowing that the Niger and the Zaire, or Congo, escaped by
such gorges on the west, I was confident that the same phenomenon must
occur upon the eastern coast, when properly examined. This hypothesis,
as sketched out in my ‘Presidential Address’ of 1852, was afterwards
received by Dr. Livingstone just as he was exploring the transverse
gorges by which the Zambesi escapes to the east, and the great
traveller has publicly expressed the surprise he then felt that his
discovery should have been thus previously suggested.”

The Lord of the Ferry delayed us at Ugaga by removing the canoes till he had extracted fourteen cloths and one coil-bracelet,--half his original demand. Moreover, for each trip the ferryman received from one to five khete of beads, according to the bulk, weight, and value of the freight. He was as exorbitant when we returned; then he would not be satisfied with less than seven cloths, a large jar of palm oil, and at least three hundred khete. On the 4th February we crossed to Mpete, the district on the right or off bank of the stream. After riding over the river plain, which at that time, when the rains had not supersaturated the soil, was hard and dry, we came upon the “Ghaut,” a muddy run or clearing in the thicket of stiff grass which crossed the stream. There we found a scene of confusion. The Arabs of Kazeh had described the canoes as fine barges, capable of accommodating fifty or sixty passengers. I was not, however, surprised to find wretched “baumrinden”--tree-rind--canoes, two strips of “myombo” bark, from five to seven feet in length, sown together like a doubled wedge with fibres of the same material. The keel was sharp, the bow and stern were elevated, and the craft was prevented from collapsing by cross-bars--rough sticks about eighteen inches long, jammed ladder-wise between the sides. When high and dry upon the bank, they look not unlike castaway shoes of an unusual size. We entered “gingerly.” The craft is crankier than the Turkish caïque, and we held on “like grim death” to the gunwale with wetted fingers. The weight of two men causes these canoes to sink within three or four inches of water-level. An extra sheet of stiff bark was placed as a seat in the stern; but the interior was ankle-deep in water, and baling was necessary after each trip. The ferryman, standing amidships or in the fore, poled or paddled according to the depth of the stream. He managed skilfully enough, and on the return-march I had reason to admire the dexterity with which he threaded the narrow, grass-grown and winding veins of deep water, that ramified from the main trunk over the swampy and rushy plains on both sides. Our riding asses were thrown into the river, and they swam across without accident. Much to my surprise, none of the bales were lost or injured. The ferrymen showed decision in maintaining, and ingenuity in increasing, their claims. On the appearance of opposition they poled off to a distance, and squatted, quietly awaiting the effect of their decisive manœuvre. When the waters are out, it is not safe to step from the canoe before it arrives at its destination. The boatman will attempt to land his passenger upon some dry mound emerging from deep water, and will then demand a second fee for salvage.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

LONDON
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INDEX.

Abad bin Sulayman, rest of the party at the house of, at Kazeh, i.
323.

Abdullah, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 136.

Abdullah bin Nasib, of Zanzibar, his kindness, i. 270.

Abdullah bin Jumah, and his flying caravan, i. 315.

Abdullah bin Salim of Kazeh, his authority there, i. 329.

Abdullah, son of Musa Mzuri, ii. 225, 226.

Ablactation, period of, in East Africa, i. 117.

Abrus precatorius used as an ornament in Karagwah, ii. 181.

Adansonia digitata, or monkey-bread of East Africa, peculiarity of,
i. 47.

Africa, Central, great depression of, i. 409; ii. 8.

African proverbs, i. 131.

Africans, a weak-brained people, i. 33.

Africans, East, their character and religion, ii. 324.

Albinos, frequency of, amongst the Wazaramo tribes, i. 109.
Description of them, 109.

Amayr bin Said el Shaksi, calls on Capt. Burton, ii. 228. His
adventures, 228.

Ammunition, danger of, in African travelling, i. 264.

Androgyne, the, ii. 159.

Animals, wild, of Uzaramo, i. 63. Of Dut’humi, 87. Of Zungomero, 95.
Of the Mrima, 103, 104. Of K’hutu, 160. Of the Usagara mountains, 162.
Of the plains beyond the Rufuta, 181, 183. Of Ugogi, 242. Of the road
to Ugogo, 247. In Ugogo, 300. Of Unyamwezi, ii. 15. Of Ujiji, 60.

Antelopes in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81. In the Rufuta plains,
183. Of East Africa, 268, 269. On the Mgunda Mk’hali, 289. Of Ugogo,
i. 300.

Ant-hills of East Africa, i. 202, 203. In Unyamwezi, ii. 19. Clay of,
chewed in Unyamwezi, 28.

Anthropophagi of Murivumba, ii. 114.

Ants in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 82. Red, of the banks of
rivers in East Africa, 186. Maji m’oto, or “hot water” ants, 187. Near
the Marenga Mk’hali river, 201. Account of them, 202. Annoyance of, at
K’hok’ho, 276. Of Rubuga, 317. Of East Africa, 371. Of Unyamwezi,
ii. 19. Of Ujiji, 64.

Apples’ wood, at Mb’hali, i. 401.

Arab caravans, description of, in East Africa, i. 342.

Arab proverbs, i. 50, 86, 133, 135.

Arabs of the East coast of Africa, i. 30. The half-castes described,
32. Those settled in Unyanyembe, 323. History and description of their
settlements, 327. Tents of, on their march, 353.

Arachis Hypogæa, as an article of food, i. 198.

Arak tree in Ugogo, i. 300.

Archery in East Africa, ii. 301.

Armanika, Sultan of Karagwah, account of, ii. 183. His government,
183, 184. Besieged by his brother, ii. 224.

Arms of the Wazaramo, i. 110. Of the Wadoe, 124. Of the Baloch
mercenaries, 133. Of the “Sons of Ramji,” 140. Required for the
expedition, 152. Of the Wasagara tribe, 199, 237. Of the Wahehe, 240.
Of the Wagogo, 304. Of the Wahamba, 312. Of the porters of caravans,
350. Of the Wakimbu, ii. 20. Of the Wanzamwezi, 30. Of the Wajiji, 66.
Of the Wavinza, 75. Of the Watuta, 77. Of the people of Karagwah, 182.

Army of Uganda, ii. 189.

Artémise frigate, i. 1.

Atmosphere, brilliancy of the, in Ugogo, i. 297.

Asclepias in the Usagara mountains, i. 165.

Ashmed bin Nuuman, the Wajhayn or “two faces,” i. 3.

Assegais of the Wasagara tribe, i. 237. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of
East Africa generally, 301.

Ass, the African, described, i. 85. Those of the expedition, 151. Loss
of, 180. Fresh asses purchased from a down caravan, 209.

Asthma, or zik el nafas, remedy in East Africa for, i. 96.

Atheism, aboriginal, ii. 342.

Bakera, village of, i. 92.

Bakshshish, in the East, ii. 84, 85. The propriety of rewarding bad
conduct, 85. Influence of, ii. 172.

Balochs, the, of Zanzibar, described, i. 14. Their knavery, 85. Their
behaviour on the march, 127. Sketch of their character, 132. Their
quarrels with the “Sons of Ramji,” 163. Their desertion and return,
173. Their penitence, 177. Their character, 177, 178. Their discontent
and complaints about food, 212, 221. And proposed desertion, 273, 278.
Their bile cooled, 274. Their injury to the expedition, 319. Their
breakfast on the march, 345. Their manœuvres at Kazeh, 376. Their
desertion, ii. 111. Influenced by bakhshish, 217. Their quarrel with
the porters, 253. Doing “Zam,” ii. 276. Sent home, 277.

Bana Dirungá, village of, i. 71.

Banadir, Barr el, or harbour-land, geography of, i. 30.

Bangwe, islet of, in Lake Tanganyika, ii. 53. Described, 99.

Banyans, the, of the East Coast of Africa, i. 19.

Baobab Tree of East Africa, i. 47.

Barghash, Sayyid, of Zanzibar, a state prisoner at Bombay, i. 3.

Barghumi, the, of East Africa, ii. 294.

Bark-cloth, price of, at Uvira, ii. 121.

Basket making in East Africa, ii. 316.

Basts of East Africa, ii. 317.

Battle-axes of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 23. Of the East Africans, 307.

Bazar-gup, or tittle-tattle in the East, i. 12.

Bdellium Tree, or Mukl, of Ugogo, i. 299. Uses of, among the Wagogo,
300.

Beads, mode of carrying, in the expedition, i. 145. Account of African
beads of commerce, 146. Currency at Msene, 398. Those most highly
valued in Ujiji, ii. 72. Bead trade of Zanzibar, 390.

Bedding required for the expedition, i. 154.

Beds and bedding of the East Africans, i. 370.

Beef, roast, and plum-pudding at Msene, i. 400.

Bee-hives, seen for the first time at Marenga Mk’hali, i. 200. Their
shape, 200. Of Rubuga, 317.

Beer in East Africa, ii. 285. Mode of making it, 286.

Bees in K’hutu, i. 120. But no bee-hives, 120. Wild, attack the
caravan, i. 176, 248, 249. Annoyance of, at K’hok’ho, 276. Of East
Africa, ii. 287.

Beetles in houses at Ujiji, ii. 91, _note_. One in the ear of Captain
Speke, 91, _note_.

Belok, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 135.

Bérard, M., his kindness, i. 22.

Berberah, disaster at, referred to, i. 68.

Bhang plant, the, in Zungomero, i. 95. Smoked throughout East Africa,
96. Effects produced by, 96. Used in Ujiji, ii. 70.

Billhooks carried by the Wasagara tribe, i. 238.

Birds, mode of catching them, i. 160. Scarcity of, in East Africa,
270. Of Ugogo, 300. Period of nidification and incubation of, ii. 13.
Of Unyamwezi, 16. Of Ujiji, 60.

Births and deaths amongst the Wazaramo, customs at, i. 115, 116, 118,
119.

Bivouac, a pleasant, i. 245.

Black Magic. See Uchawi.

Blackmail of the Wazaramo, i. 70, 113. Of the Wak’hutu, 121. Of the
Wazegura, 125. At Ugogo, 252. Account of the blackmail of East Africa,
253. At Kirufuru, 264. At Kanyenye, 265. In K’hok’ho, 274. At Mdaburu,
279. At Wanyika, 407. At Ubwari island, ii. 114.

Blood of cattle, drunk in East Africa, ii. 282.

Boats of the Tanganyika Lake, described, ii. 94.

Boatmen of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 101.

Bomani, “the stockade,” village of, i. 47. Halt at, 47. Vegetation of,
47, 48. Departure from, 51.

Bombax, or silk cotton tree, of Uzaramo, i. 60.

Bonye fiumara, accident to a caravan in the, ii. 270.

Books required for the expedition, i. 155.

Borassus flabelliformis, or Palmyra tree, in the plains, i. 180. Toddy
drawn from, 181.

Bos Caffer, or Mbogo, in the plains of East Africa, i. 181. Described,
181. In Ugogo, 300.

Botanical collection stolen, i. 319. Difficulty of taking care of the
collection on the upward march, 320. Destroyed by damp at Ujiji,
ii. 81.

Boulders of granite on the Mgunda Mk’hali, i. 284. Picturesque effects
of the, 285, 286.

Bows and arrows of the Wagogo, i. 504. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of
the East Africans, 301. Poisoned arrows, 305.

Brab tree, or Ukhindu, of the Mrima, i. 48.

Breakfast in the caravan described, i. 345. An Arab’s, at Kazeh,
ii. 167.

Buffaloes on the road to Ugogo, i. 247. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15. On the
Rusugi river, ii. 40.

Bumbumu, Sultan, of the Wahehe, i. 239.

Burial ceremonies of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 25.

Burkene, route to, ii. 179.

Burton, Captain, quits Zanzibar Island, i. 1.
The personnel and materiel of the expedition, i. 3, 10, 11.
Smallness of the grant allowed by government, i. 4, _note_.
The author’s proposal to the Royal Geographical Society, i. 5.
Anchors off Wale Point, i. 8.
His difficulties, i. 19.
His MS. lost, i. 21.
Melancholy parting with Col. Hamerton, i. 22.
Lands at Kaole, i. 22.
Melancholy reflections, i. 24.
Transit of the valley of the Kingani and the Mgeta rivers, i. 41.
The first departure, i. 43, 46.
Tents pitched at Bomani, i. 51.
Delay the second, i. 49.
Departure from Bomani, i. 51.
Arrives at the village of Mkwaju la Mvuani, i. 52.
The third departure, i. 53.
Halt at Nzasa, in Uzaramo, i. 54.
Start again, i. 57.
First dangerous station, i. 59.
Second one, i. 63.
Adventure at Makutaniro, i. 70.
Author attacked by fever, i. 71.
Third dangerous station, i. 73.
Encamps at Madege Madogo, i. 79.
And at Kidunda, i. 79.
Loses his elephant-gun, i. 80.
Arrives at a place of safety, i. 81.
Enters K’hutu, i. 82.
Has a hammam, i. 82.
Thoroughly prostrated, i. 84.
His troubles, i. 86.
Prepares a report for the Royal Geographical Society, i. 89.
Advances from Dut’humi, i. 91.
Halts at Zungomero, i. 127.
Leaves Zungomero, i. 158.
Arrives at Mzizi Mdogo, i. 161.
Recovery of health at, i. 161.
Leaves Mzizi Mdogo, i. 165.
Halts at Cha K’henge, i. 167.
Desertion of the Baloch, i. 173.
Their return, i. 174.
Halts at Muhama, i. 178.
Again attacked by fever, i. 179.
Resumes the march, i. 180.
Contrasts in the scenery, i. 184.
Fords the Mukondokwa river, i. 188.
Reaches Kadetamare, i. 189.
Loss of instruments, i. 189.
Halts at Muinyi, i. 193.
Resumes the journey, i. 194.
Halts at Ndábi, i. 196.
Resumes the march and rests at Rumuma, i. 198.
Abundance of its supplies, i. 198.
Reaches Marenga Mk’hali, i. 203.
Approaches the bandit Wahumba, i. 203.
Leaves Marenga Mk’hali, i. 204.
Halts at the basin of Inenge, i. 208.
Wholesome food obtained there, i. 208.
Exchange of civilities with a down caravan, i. 208.
Painful ascent of the Rubeho, or Windy Pass, i. 213.
Halt at the Great Rubeho, i. 215.
Ascent of the Little Rubeho, i. 215.
Descent of the counterslope of the Usagara mountains, i. 219.
First view of the Ugogo mountains, i. 220.
Halts at the third Rubeho, i. 221.
Marches on the banks of the Dungomaro, i. 222.
Reaches the plains of Ugogo, i. 223.
Losses during the descent, i. 224.
Halts at Ugogi, i. 241.
Engages the services of fifteen Wanyamwezi porters, i. 244.
Leaves Ugogi, i. 244.
The caravan dislodged by wild bees, i. 248.
Loses a valuable portmanteau, i. 249.
Halts on the road for the night, i. 250.
Leaves the jungle-kraal, i. 250.
Sights the Ziwa, or Pond, i. 251.
Provisions obtained there, i. 255.
Recovery of the lost portmanteau, i. 257.
Joins another up-caravan, i. 257, 258.
Enters Ugogo, i. 259.
Astonishment of the Wagogo, i. 263.
Delayed at Kifukuru for blackmail, i. 264.
Leaves Kifukuru, i. 265.
Accident in the jungle, i. 265.
Interview with Magomba, sultan of Kanyenye, i. 266.
Hurried march from Kanyenye, i. 271.
Arrives at Usek’he and K’hok’ho, i. 272.
Difficulties of blackmail at K’hok’ho, i. 274.
Departs from K’hok’ho, i. 275.
Desertion of fifteen porters, i. 275.
Trying march in the Mdáburu jungle, i. 277.
Reaches Uyanzi, i. 279.
Traverses the Fiery Field, i. 283.
Arrives at the Mabunguru fiumara, i. 285.
Losses on the march, i. 285.
Reaches Jiwe la Mkoa, i. 286, 288.
And Kirurumo and Jiweni, i. 289.
Marches to Mgono T’hembo, i. 290.
Arrives at the Tura Nullah, i. 291.
And at the village of Tura, the frontier of Unyamwezi, i. 292, 313.
Proceeds into Unyamwezi, i. 314.
Halts at the Kwale nullah, i. 315.
Visited by Abdullah bin Jumah and his flying caravan, i. 315.
And by Sultan Maura, i. 316.
Reaches Ukona, i. 318.
Leaves Ukona and halts at Kigwa or Mkigwa, i. 319.
Enters the dangerous Kigwa forest, i. 319.
Loss of papers there, i. 319.
Reaches the rice-lands of the Unyamyembe district, i. 321.
Enters Kazeh in grand style, i. 322.
Hospitality of the Arabs there, i. 323.
Difficulties of the preparations for recommencing the journey,
i. 377.
Sickness of the servants, i. 379.
Author attacked by fever, i. 380.
Leaves Kazeh and proceeds to Zimbili, i. 386.
Proceeds and halts at Yombo, i. 386, 387.
Leaves Yombo and reaches Pano and Mfuto, i. 389.
Halts at Irora, i. 389.
Marches to Wilyankuru, i. 390.
Hospitality of Salim bin Said, i. 391.
And of Masid ibn Musallam el Wardi, at Kirira, i. 392.
Leaves Kirira, and marches to Msene, i. 395.
Delayed there, i. 399.
Marches to the village of Mb’hali, i. 401.
And to Sengati and the deadly Sorora, i. 401.
Desertions and dismissals at Sorora, i. 402.
Marches to Kajjanjeri, i. 403.
Detained there by dangerous illness, i. 403.
Proceeds and halts at Usagozi, i. 406.
Some of the party afflicted by ophthalmia, i. 406.
Quits Usagozi, and marches to Masenza, i. 406, 407.
Reaches the Mukozimo district, i. 407.
Spends a night at Rukunda, i. 407.
Sights the plain of the Malagarazi river, i. 407.
Halts at Wanyika, i. 407.
Settlement of blackmail at, i. 408.
Resumes the march, i. 408.
Arrives at the bank of the Malagarazi river, i. 408.
Crosses over to Mpete, i. 410.
Marches to Kinawani, ii. 35.
And to Jambeho, ii. 36.
Fords the Rusugi river, ii. 37.
Fresh desertions, ii. 38.
Halts on the Ungwwe river, ii. 40.
First view of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 42.
Arrives at Ukaranga, ii. 44.
And at Ujiji, ii. 46.
Visits the headman Kannena, ii. 81.
Incurs his animosity, ii. 82, 84.
Ill effects of the climate and food of Ujiji, ii. 85.
Captain Speke sent up the Lake, ii. 87.
Mode of spending the day at Ujiji, ii. 87.
Failure of Capt. Speke’s expedition, ii. 90.
The author prepares for a cruise, ii. 93.
The voyage, ii. 99.
Halts and encamps at Kigari, ii. 101.
Enters the region of Urundi, ii. 101.
Reaches and halts at Wafanya, ii. 106.
Sails for the island of Ubwari, ii. 112.
Anchors there, ii. 113.
Leaves there and arrives at Murivumba, ii. 114.
Reaches the southern frontier of Uvira, ii. 115.
Further progress stopped, ii. 117, 119.
Returns, ii. 121.
Storm on the Lake, ii. 123.
Passes the night at Wafanya, ii. 123.
A slave accidentally shot there, ii. 124.
Returns to Kawele, ii. 124.
Improvement in health, ii. 129.
The outfit reduced to a minimum, ii. 130.
Arrival of supplies, but inadequate, ii. 132.
Preparations for the return to Unyanyembe, ii. 155.
The departure, ii. 157.
The return-march, ii. 160.
Pitches tents at Uyonwa, ii. 161.
Desertions, ii. 161.
Returns to the ferry of the Malagarazi, ii. 164.
Marches back to Unyanyembe, ii. 165.
Halts at Yombo, ii. 166.
Re-enters Kazeh, ii. 167.
Sends his companion on an expedition to the north, ii. 173.
His mode of passing time at Kazeh, ii. 173, 198.
Preparations for journeying, ii. 200.
Shortness of funds, ii. 221.
Outfit for the return, ii. 229.
Departs from Kazeh, ii. 231.
Halts at Hanga, ii. 232.
Leaves Hanga, ii. 240.
Returns through Ugogo, ii. 244.
The letters with the official “wigging,” ii. 247.
Takes the Kiringawana route, ii. 249.
Halts at a den of thieves, ii. 252.
And at Maroro, ii. 255.
Marches to Kiperepeta, ii. 256.
Fords the Yovu, ii. 258.
Halts at Ruhembe rivulet, ii. 261.
And on the Makata plain, ii. 262.
Halts at Uziraha, ii. 263.
Returns to Zungomero, ii. 264.
Proposes a march to Kilwa, ii. 265.
Desertion of the porters, ii. 266.
Engages fresh ones, ii. 267.
Leaves Zungomero, and resumes the march, ii. 276.
Re-enters Uzaramo, ii. 277.
And Konduchi, ii. 278.
Sights the sea, ii. 278.
Sets out for Kilwa, ii. 372.
Returns to Zanzibar, ii. 379.
Leaves Zanzibar for Aden, ii. 384.
Returns to Europe, ii. 384.

Butter in East Africa, ii. 284.

Cacti in the Usagara Mountains, i. 165. Of Mgunda M’Khali, 286.

Calabash-tree of East Africa, described, i. 147. In the Usagara
mountains, i. 164, 229. Magnificence of, at Ugogo, 260. The only large
tree in Ugogo, 299.

Camp furniture required for the expedition, i. 152.

Cannibalism of the Wadoe tribe, i. 123. Of the people of Murivumba,
ii. 114.

Cannabis Indica in Unyamwezi, i. 318.

Canoes built of mvule trees, ii. 147. Mode of making them, 147.

Canoes on the Malagarazi river, i. 409. On the “Ghaut,” 411.

Capparis sodata, verdure of the, in Ugogo, i. 300.

Carriage, cost of, in East Africa, ii. 414.