Chapter I (2)

The half-caste Arab is degenerate in body and mind; the third generation becomes as truly negroid as the inner heathen. Even Creoles of pure blood, born upon the island and the coast of Zanzibar, lose the high nervous temperament that characterises their ancestors, and become, like Banyans, pulpy and lymphatic. These mestiços, appearing in the land of their grandsires, have incurred the risk of being sold as slaves. The peculiarity of their physiognomy is the fine Semitic development of the upper face, including the nose and nostrils, whilst the jaw is prognathous, the lips are tumid and everted, and the chin is weak and retreating. The cranium is somewhat rounded, and it wants the length of the Negroid’s skull. Idle and dissolute, though intelligent and cunning, the coast-Arab has little education. He is sent at the age of seven to school, where in two or three years he accomplishes the Khitmah, or perlection of the Koran, and he learns to write a note in an antiquated character, somewhat more imperfect than the Cufic. This he applies to the Kisawahili, and as nothing can be less fitted for the Semitic tongues than the Arabic syllabarium, so admirably adapted to its proper sphere, his compositions require the deciphering of an expert. A few prayers and hymns conclude the list of his acquirements. His mother-tongue knows no books except short treatises on Bao, or geomancy, and specimens of African proverbial wisdom. He then begins life by aiding his father in the shop or plantation, and by giving himself up to intoxication and intrigue. After suffering severely from his excesses--in this climate no constitution can bear up against over-indulgence long continued--at the age of seventeen or eighteen, he takes unto himself a wife. Estranged from the land of his forefathers, he rarely visits Zanzibar, where the restraints of semi-civilisation, the decencies of oriental society, and the low estimation in which the black skin is held, weary and irritate him. His point of honour seems to consist chiefly in wearing publicly, in token of his Arab descent, a turban and a long yellow shirt, called El Dishdasheh.

The Wamrima, or coast-clans, resemble even more than the half-caste Arabs their congeners the Washenzi. The pure Omani will not acknowledge them as kinsmen, declaring the breed to be Aajam, or gentiles. They are less educated than the higher race, and they are more debauched, apathetic, dilatory, and inert; their favourite life is one of sensual indolence. Like the Somal, they appear to be unfitted by nature for intellectual labour; of the former people there is but one learned man, the Shaykh Jami of Harar, and the Kazi Muhiyy-el-Din of Zanzibar is the only literato amongst the Wasawahili. Study, or indeed any tension of the mind, seems to make these weak-brained races semi-idiotic. They cannot answer Yes or No to the simplest question. If, for example, a man be asked the place of his tribe, he will point to a distance, though actually living amongst them; or if questioned concerning some particular of an event, he will detail everything but what is wanted. In the earlier days of exploration, I have repeatedly collected the diwans, and, after a careful investigation and comparison of statements, have registered the names and distances of the stages ahead. These men, though dwelling upon the threshold of the regions which they described, and being in the habit of traversing them every year, yet could hardly state a single fact correctly; sometimes they doubled, at other times they halved, the distance; they seldom gave the same names, and they almost always made a hysteron-proteron of the stations. The reader may gather from this sample some idea of the difficulties besetting those who would collect information concerning Africa from the Africans. It would not have happened had an Arab been consulted. I soon resolved to doubt for the future all Wasawahili, Wamrima, Washenzi, and slaves, and I found no reason for regretting the resolution.

The Wamrima are of darker complexion, and are more African in appearance, than the coast Arabs. The popular colour is a dull yellowish bronze. The dress is a fez, or a Surat-cap; a loin-cloth, which among the wealthy is generally an Arab check or an Indian print, with a similar sheet thrown over the shoulders. Men seldom appear in public without a spear, a sword, or a staff; and priding themselves upon the possession of umbrellas, they may be seen rolling barrels, or otherwise working upon the sands, under the luxurious shade. The women wear a tobe, or long cloth, wrapped tightly round the body, and extending from beneath the arms to the ankles; it is a garb ungraceful as was the European “sacque” of bygone days. It spoils the figure by depressing instead of supporting the bosom, and it conceals none of its deficiencies, especially the narrowness of the hips. The Murungwana, or free-woman, is distinguished from the slave-girl, when outside the house, by a cloth thrown over the head. Like the women of the Bedouins and of the Persian Iliyat, even the matrons of the Mrima go abroad unmasked. Their favourite necklace is a string of shark’s teeth. They distend the lobes of the ears to a prodigious size, and decorate them with a rolled-up strip of variously-dyed cocoa-leaf, a disk of wood, a plate of chakazi or raw gum-copal, or, those failing, with a betel-nut or with a few straws. The left wing of the nose is also pierced to admit a pin of silver, brass, lead, or even a bit of manioc-root. The hair, like the body, is copiously anointed with cocoa-nut or sesamum oil. Some shave the head wholly or partially across the brow and behind the ears; others grow their locks to half or full-length, which rarely exceeds a few inches. It is elaborately dressed, either in double-rolls rising like bear’s ears on both sides of the head, or divided into a number of frizzly curls which expose lines of scalp, and give to the head the appearance of a melon. They have also a propensity for savage “accroche-cœurs,” which stand out from the cheek bones, stiffly twisted like young porkers’ tails. In early youth, when the short, soft, and crisp hair resembles Astrachan wool, when the muscles of the face are smoothly rounded, and when the skin has that life and texture, and the countenance has that vivacity and amiability which belong only to the young, many of the girls have a pretty piquancy, a little minois chiffonné, a coquettishness, a natural grace, and a caressing look, which might become by habit exceedingly prepossessing. In later life, their charms assume that peculiar solidity which is said to characterise the beauties of Mullingar, and as a rule they are shockingly ugly. The Castilian proverb says that the English woman should be seen at the window, the French woman on the promenade, and the Spanish woman everywhere;--the African woman should be seen nowhere, or in the dark. The children mostly appear in the graceful costume of the Belvidere Apollo; not a few of them have, to the European eye, that amusing prettiness which we admire in pug-pups.

The mode of life in the Mrima is simple. Men rise early and repair to either the shop, the boat, or the plantation,--more commonly they waste the morning in passing from house to house “ku amkía,”--to salute neighbours. They ignore “manners”: they enter abruptly with or without the warning cry of “Hodi! Hodi!” place their spears in the corner, and without invitation squat and extend themselves upon the floor till wearied with conversation they take “French leave.” Life, to the European so real and earnest, is with them a continued scene of drumming, dancing, and drinking, of gossip, squabble, and intrigue. The favourite inebrients are tembu or cocoa toddy, and mvinyo, its distillation, pombe or millet-beer, opium, Bhang, and sometimes foreign stimulants purchased at Zanzibar. Their food is mostly ugali, the thick porridge of boiled millet or maize flour, which represents the “staff of life” in East Africa: they usually feed twice a day, in the morning and at night-fall. They employ the cocoa-nut extensively: like the Arabs of Zanzibar, they boil their rice in the thick juice of the rasped albumen kneaded with water, and they make cakes of the pulp mixed with the flour of various grains. This immoderate use of the fruit which, according to the people, is highly refrigerant, causes, it is said, rheumatic and other diseases. A respectable man seen eating a bit of raw or undressed cocoa-nut would be derided by his fellows. They chew tobacco with lime, like the Arabs, who, under the influence of Wahhabi tenets, look upon the pipe as impure, and they rarely smoke it like the Washenzi.

The Wamrima as well as the Wasawahili are distinguished by two national peculiarities of character. The first is a cautiousness bordering upon cowardice, derived from their wild African blood; the second is an unusual development of cunning and deceitfulness, which partially results from the grafting of the semi-civilised Semite upon the Hamite. The Arabs, who are fond of fanciful etymology, facetiously derive the race-name “Msawahili” from “Sawwá hílah,”[3] _he played a trick_, and the people boast of it, saying, “are we not Wasawahili?” that is “artful dodgers.” Supersubtle and systematic liars, they deceive when duller men would tell the truth, the lie direct is no insult, and the offensive word “muongo!” (liar) enters largely into every dialogue. They lie like Africans, objectlessly, needlessly, when sure of speedy detection, when fact would be more profitable than falsehood; they have not discovered with the civilised knave, that “honesty is the best policy;” they lie till their fiction becomes subjectively fact. With them the lie is no mental exertion, no exercise of ingenuity, no concealment, nor mere perversion of the truth: it is apparently a local instinctive peculiarity in the complicated madness of poor human nature. The most solemn and religious oaths are with them empty words; they breathe an atmosphere of falsehood, manœuvre, and contrivance, wasting about the mere nothings of life--upon a pound of grain or a yard of cloth--ingenuity of iniquity enough to win and keep a crown. And they are treacherous as false; with them the salt has no signification, and gratitude is unknown even by name.

[3] Dr. Krapf, in the Preface to his “Outlines of the Kisuahelí
Language,” deduces the national name from Síwá, ’a hílah, which would
mean exactly the reverse of astute--“without guile.” He has made other
curious linguistic errors: he translates, for instance, the
“Quilimancy” River--the ancient name for the Ozi or Dana--“water from
the mountain,” after a Germanic or Indo-European fashion, whereas, in
the Zangian languages, the compound word would, if admissible, signify
“a mountain of water.” It is curious that the learned and accurate Mr.
Cooley, who has charged Dr. Krapf with “puerile etymologies,” should
have fallen into precisely the same error. In the “Geography of
N’yassi,” p. 19, “Mazingia” is rendered the “road or land along the
water,” but Májí Njíá, if the elision of the possessive affix ya be
allowed in prose as in poetry--Májí Njíá for Májí ya Njíá--would mean
only the “water of the road.” As a specimen of Dr. Krapf’s discoveries
in philology the following may suffice. In his vocabulary of the
Engutuk Eloikob or Kikuafi dialect, he derives Olbitir, a _pig_, from
the Arabic El Batrah, a _young ass_, or from El Basir, a _sharp-seeing
dog_!

Though partially Arabised, the Wamrima, as well as the Wasawahili, retain many habits and customs derived from the most degraded of the Washenzi savagery. Like the Wazegura heathen of Eastern Africa, and the Bangala of the Kasanji (Cassange) Valley, in the West, the uncle sells his nephews and nieces by an indefeasible vested right, with which even the parents cannot interfere. The voice of society even justifies this abomination. “What!” exclaim the people, “is a man to want when his brothers and sisters have children?” He is thus encouraged in doing, on the slightest pretext, that of which the heathen rarely approve, except to save themselves from starvation. At the same time the Wamrima, holding the unchastity of woman as a tenet of belief, consider the sister’s son--the “surer side”--the heir, in preference to the son. They have many superstitions, and before all undertakings they consult a pagan Mganga or medicine-man. If the K’hunguru or crow caws from the house-top, a guest is coming; if a certain black bird cries “chee! chee!” in front of a caravan, the porters will turn back, saying that there is blood on the road, and they will remain four or five days till the “chika! chika!” of the partridge beats the “General.” An even number of wayfarers met in early morning is a good omen, but an odd number, or the bark of the Mbweha--the fox--before the march, portends misfortune. Strong minds of course take advantage of these and a thousand other follies of belief, and when there is not, as in civilised countries, a counteracting influence of scepticism, the mental organisation of the people becomes a mass of superstitious absurdities.

The chief industry of the Mrima, namely the plundering of caravans, has already been alluded to; it will here be described with somewhat more of detail. The industrious and commercial nations near Kilwa and the southern regions delay but a few days on the coast; the Wanyamwezi, on the line now to be described, will linger there from three to six months, enjoying the dear delights of comparative civilisation. Many old campaigners have so far overcome their barbarous horror of water travelling, which has been increased by tales of shipwreck and drowning, as to take boat and carry their ivory to the more profitable market in this land of Zanzibar, where the Wanyamwezi occupy their own quarter. Arrived within two marches of the coast-town, the head of the caravan calls a halt till the presents promised by an escort of touters have arrived and have been approved of. He then delays as long as possible, to live gratis upon those with whom he proposes to deal. After a time, the caravan enters in stately procession, a preliminary to the usual routine of commercial operations. Having settled the exorbitant claims of the village headmen and the charges of the Zanzibar Government, which are usually levied in duplicate by the local authorities, the barbarian has recourse to the Indian Banyan. Bargains are usually concluded at night: to a civilised man the work would be an impossible trial of patience. A lot of two hundred tusks is rarely sold under four months. Each article is laid upon the ground, and the purchaser begins by placing handsome cloths, technically called “pillows,” under the point and bamboo of the tusk, and by covering its whole length with a third; these form the first perquisites of the seller. After a few days, during which rice and ghee, sugar and sweetmeats, must be freely supplied, commences the chaffering for the price. The Banyan becomes excited at the ridiculous demand of his client, screams like a woman, pushes him out of doors, and receives a return of similar treatment with interest. He takes advantage of his knowledge that the African in making a bargain is never satisfied with the first offer, however liberal; he begins with a quarter of the worth, then he raises it to one-half, and when the barbarian still hesitates he throws in some flashy article which turns the scale. Any attempt at a tariff would be contemptuously rejected by both parties. The African delights in bargaining, and the Indian having brighter wits relies upon them for a profit, which the establishment of fair prices would curtail. It were in vain to attempt any alteration in this style of doing “business;” however despicable it may appear in the London market, it is a time-honoured institution in East Africa.

CHAP. III.

TRANSIT OF THE VALLEY OF THE KINGANI AND THE MGETA RIVERS.

It was a gallant sight to see the Baloch, as with trailed matchlocks, and in bravery of shield, sword, and dagger, they hurried in Indian file out of the Kaole cantonments, following their blood-red flag and their high-featured, snowy-bearded chief, the “Shaib Mohammed,”--old Mohammed. The band, “like worms,” as they expressed its numbers, which amounted to nearly a hundred, about one-third of the venerable Jemadar’s command, was marching forth to bid us farewell, in token of respect, at Mgude or Kuingani, “the cocoa-plantation near the sea.” It is a little settlement, distant an hour and a half’s walk from Kaole: hither my companion had preceded me, and hence we were to make our second departure. Accompanied by Said bin Salim, Valentine my Goanese servant, three Baloch, and two slaves, I followed in the wake of the main body, bringing up the rear of the baggage on three Unyamwezi asses bought that morning at the custom-house. The animals had been laden with difficulty: their kicking and plunging, rearing and pawing, had prevented the nice adjustment of their packs, and the wretched pads, which want of time had compelled me to take, instead of panels or pack-saddles, loosely girthed with rotten coir rope, could not support a heap of luggage weighing at least 200 lbs. per load. On the road they rushed against one another; they bolted, they shied, and they threw their impediments with such persistence, that my servant could not help exclaiming, “Unká nám gadha”--“Their name _is_ jackass.” At last, as the sun neared the salt sea, one of these half-wild brutes suddenly sank, girth-deep, in a patch of boggy mire, and the three Baloch, my companions, at once ran away, leaving us to extricate it as best we could. This little event had a peculiar significancy to one about to command a party composed principally of asses and Baloch.

The excitement of finding myself on new ground, and the peculiarities of the scenery, somewhat diverted melancholy forebodings. Issuing from the little palisade of Kaole, the path winds in a south-westerly direction over a sandy soil, thick with thorns and bush, which in places project across the way. Thence ascending a wave of ground where cocoas and the wild arrow-root flourish, it looks down upon park land like that described by travellers in Kaffraria, a fair expanse of sand veiled with humus, here and there growing rice, with mangoes and other tall trees, regularly disposed as if by the hand of man. Finally, after crossing a muddy grass-grown swamp, and a sandy bottom full of water when rain has been heavy, the path, passing through luxuriant cultivation, enters Kuingani. Such is the “nakl,” or preparatory-stage of Arab travellers, an invariable first departure, where porters who find their load too heavy, or travellers who suspect that they are too light, can return to Kaole and re-form.

The little settlement of Kuingani is composed of a few bee-hive huts, and a Bandani or wall-less thatched roof--the village palaver-house--clustering orderless round a cleared central space. Outside, cocoas, old and dwarfed, mangoes almost wild, the papaw, the cotton shrub, the perfumed Rayhan or Basil, and a sage-like herb, the sugarcane, and the Hibiscus called by the Goanese “Rosel,” vary the fields of rice, holcus, and “Turiyan,” or the Cajanus Indicus. The vegetation is, in fact, that of the Malabar coast; the habitations are peculiarly African.

The 28th of June was a halt at Kuingani, where I was visited by Ramji and two brother Bhattias, Govindji and Kesulji. The former was equipped, as least becomes the Banyan man, with sword, dudgeon, and assegai. But Ramji was a heaven-made soldier; he had taken an active part in the military operations directed by His Highness the late Sayyid Said against the people of the mainland, and about thirteen years ago he defended Kaole against a host of Wazaramo, numbering, it is said, 3,000 men, when, lacking balls, he had loaded his honeycombed cannon and his rusty matchlocks with pointed sticks. The Europeans of Zanzibar called him “Rush,”--the murderer. His fellow-countrymen declared him to be a “sharp practiser,” who had made a reputation by spending other people’s money, and I personally had proofs which did not allow me to doubt his “savoir faire.”

The nights at Kuingani were not pleasant. The air was stifling, the mosquitoes buzzed without intermission, and I had neglected to lay in “essence of pennyroyal” against certain other plagues. On the second evening, seeing by the hang-dog look of my Jemadar that he was travailing in mind, I sent for a Mganga or medicine-man, and having previously promised him a Surat skull-cap for a good haul of prophecy, I collected the Baloch to listen. The Mganga, a dark old man, of superior rank, as the cloth round his head and his many bead necklaces showed, presently reappeared with a mat-bag containing the implements of his craft. After taking his seat opposite to me he demanded his fee--here, as elsewhere, to use the words with which Kleon excited the bile of Tiresias,

“Το μαντικον γαρ παν φιλαργυρον γενος;”

--without which prediction would have been impossible. When gratified he produced a little gourd snuff-box and indulged himself with a solemn and dignified pinch. He then drew forth a larger gourd which contained the great medicine, upon which no eye profane might gaze: the vessel, repeatedly shaken, gave out a vulgar sound as if filled with pebbles and bits of metal. Presently, placing the implement upon the ground, Thaumaturges extracted from the mat-bag two thick goat’s horns connected by a snake-skin, which was decorated with bunches of curiously-shaped iron bells; he held one in the left hand, and with the right he caused the point of the other to perform sundry gyrations, now directing it towards me, then towards himself, then at the awe-struck bystanders, waving his head, muttering, whispering, swaying his body to and fro, and at times violently rattling the bells. When fully primed with the spirit of prophecy, and connected by ekstasis with the ghosts of the dead, he spake out pretty much in the style of his brotherhood all the world over. The journey was to be prosperous. There would be much talking, but little killing.--Said bin Salim, in chuckling state, confessed that he had heard the same from a Mganga consulted at Zanzibar.--Before navigating the sea of Ujiji a sheep or a parti-coloured hen should be killed and thrown into the lake.--Successful voyage.--Plenty of ivory and slaves.--Happy return to wife and family.

This good example of giving valuable advice was not lost upon Mr. Rush Ramji. He insisted upon the necessary precautions of making a strong kraal and of posting sentinels every night; of wearing a kerchief round the head after dark, and of avoiding the dangerous air of dawn; of not eating strange food, and of digging fresh wells, as the Wazaramo bewitch water for travellers; of tethering the asses, of mending their ropes, and of giving them three lbs. of grain per diem. Like the medical directions given to the French troops proceeding to China, the counsel was excellent, but impracticable.

The evening concluded with a nautch. Yusuf, a Baloch, produced a saringi--the Asiatic viol--and collected all the scamps of the camp with a loud scraping. Hulluk, the buffoon, acted dancing-girl to perfection. After the normal pantomime, somewhat broadly expressed, he did a little work in his own character; standing on his head with a peculiar tremulousness from the hips upwards, dislocating his person in a sitting position, imitating the cry of a dog, cat, ape, camel, and slave-girl, and finally reproducing me with peculiar impudence before my face. I gave him a dollar, when, true to his strain, he at once begged another.

All accounts and receipts being finally duly settled with the Hindus, the last batch of three donkeys having arrived, and the baggage having been laden with great difficulty, I shook hands with old Mohammed and the other dignitaries, and mounting my ass, gave orders for immediate departure from Kuingani. This was not effected without difficulty: every one and everything, guide and escort, asses and slaves, seemed to join in raising up fresh obstacles. Four P.M. sped before we turned out of the little settlement. Among other unpleasant occurrences, Rahmat, a Baloch knave, who had formed one of my escort to Fuga, levelled his long barrel, with loud “Mimí ná pigá” (I am shooting him), when his company was objected to. His Jemadar, Yaruk, seized the old shooting-iron, which was probably unloaded, and Rahmat, with sotto-voce snarls and growls, slunk back to his kennel. A turbaned Negroid, who appeared on the path, was asked to point out the way, and, on his refusal, my bull-headed slave Mabruki struck him on the face, when, to the consternation of all parties, he declared himself a Diwan. The blow, according to the Jemadar, would infallibly lead to bloodshed.

After a second short march of one hour and a half, we pitched tents and obtained lodgings in Bomani, “the Stockade,” a frontier village, but within the jurisdiction of Bagamoyo. On this road, which ascended the old sea-beach, patches of open forest and of high rank grass divided cultivated clearings, where huts and hamlets appeared, and where modest young maidens beckoned us as we passed. The vegetation is here partly African, partly Indian. The Mbuyu,--the baobab, Adansonia digitata, monkey-bread, or calabash, the Mowana of the southern and the Kuka of the northern regions,--is of more markedly bulbous form than on the coast, where the trunk is columnar; its heavy extremities, depressed by the wind, give it the shape of a lumpy umbrella shading the other wild growths. There appear to be two varieties of this tree, similar in bole but differing in foliage and in general appearance. The normal Mbuyu has a long leaf, and the drooping outline of the mass is convex; the rarer, observed only upon the Usagara Mountains, has a small leaf, in colour like the wild indigo, and the arms striking upwards assume the appearance of a bowl. The lower bottoms, where the soil is rich, grow the Mgude, also called Mparamusi (Taxus elongatus, the Geel hout or Yellow-wood of the Cape?) a perfect specimen of arboreal beauty. A tall tapering shaft, without knot or break, straight and clean as a main-mast forty or forty-five feet in height, and painted with a tender greenish-yellow, is crowned with parachute-shaped masses of vivid emerald foliage, whilst sometimes two and even three pillars spring from the same root. The Mvumo,--a distorted toddy tree, or Hyphæna allied to the Daum palm of Egypt and Arabia,--has a trunk rough with the drooping remnants of withered fronds, above which it divides itself into branches resembling a system of Y’s. Its oval fruit is of a yellowish red, and when full-sized it is as large as a child’s head; it is eaten even unripe by the people, and is said to be the favourite food of the elephant. Pulpless, hard, and stringy, it has, when thoroughly mature, a slight taste of gingerbread, hence it is also called the Gingerbread-tree. The Ukhindu or brab, of whose fronds mats and the grass kilts worn by many of the tribes are made, flourishes throughout the country, proving that the date-tree might be naturalised. The Nyara or Chamærops humilis, the dwarf fan-palm or palmetto of Southern Europe, abounds in this maritime region. The other growths are the Mtogwe and the Mbungo-bungo, varieties of the Nux vomica; the finest are those growing in the vicinity of water. The fruit contains within its hard rind, which, when ripe, is orange-coloured, large pips, covered with a yellow pulp of a grateful agro-dolce flavour, with a suspicion of the mango. The people eat them with impunity; the nuts, which contain the poisonous principle, being too hard to be digested. The Mtunguja (the Punneeria coagulans of Dr. Stocks), a solanaceous plant called by the Indians Jangli bengan, or the wild egg-plant, by the South Africans Toluane, and by the Baloch Panír, or cheese, from the effect of the juice in curdling milk, is here, as in Somaliland, a spontaneous growth throughout the country. The same may be said of the castor plant, which, in these regions, is of two kinds. The Mbono (Jatropha curcas?) is the Gumpal of Western India, a coarse variety, with a large seed; its fetid oil, when burnt, fouls the lamp; yet, in Africa, it is used by all classes as an unguent. The Mbarika, or Palma Christi, the Irindi of India, is employed in medicine. The natives extract the oil by toasting and pounding the bean, adding a little hot water and skimming off what appears upon the surface. The Arabs, more sensibly, prefer it “cold-drawn.” These plants, allowed to grow unpruned, often attain the height of eighteen to twenty feet.

The 30th June was another forced halt, when I tasted all the bitterness that can fall to the lot of those who explore regions unvisited by their own colour. The air of Bomani is stagnant, the sun fiery, and clouds of mosquitoes make the nights miserable. Despite these disadvantages, it is a favourite halting-place for up-caravans, who defer to the last the evil days of long travel and short rations. Though impressed with the belief, that the true principle of exploration in these lands is to push on as rapidly and to return as leisurely as possible, I could not persuade the Baloch to move. In Asia, two departures usually suffice; in Africa there must be three,--the little start, the great start, and the start κατ’ εξοχην. Some clamoured for tobacco--I gave up my cavendish; others for guitar-strings--they were silenced with beads; and all, born donkey-drivers, complained loudly of the hardship and the indignity of having to load and lead an ass. The guide, an influential Mzaramo, promised by the Banyans Ladha and Ramji, declined, after receiving twenty dollars, to accompany the Expedition, and from his conduct the Baloch drew the worst of presages. Much ill-will was shown by them towards the European members of the Expedition. “Kafir end, márá bandirá na khenen” (they are infidels and must not carry our flag)--it was inscribed with the usual Moslem formula--was spoken audibly enough in their debased Mekrani to reach my ears: a faithful promise to make a target of the first man who might care to repeat the words, stopped that manner of nuisance. Again the most childish reports flew about the camp, making these jet-bearded and fierce-eyed hen-hearts faint with fears. Boxes had been prepared by the barbarians for myself, and gates had been built across the paths to arrest my party. P’hazi Mazungera, M. Maizan’s murderer, had collected a host that numbered thousands, and the Wazaramo were preparing a levée _en masse_. To no purpose I quoted the Arab’s proverb--“the son of fifty dieth not at thirty”; all _would_ be heroic victims marching to gory graves. Such reports did real damage: the principal danger was the tremulous alacrity with which the escort prepared upon each trivial occasion for battle and murder, and sudden death. At one place a squabble amongst the villagers kept the Baloch squatting on their hams with lighted matches from dusk till dawn. At another, a stray Fisi or Cynhyæna entering the camp by night, caused a confusion which only the deadliest onslaught could have justified. A slave hired on the road, hearing these horrors, fled in dismay; this, the first of desertions, was by no means the last. The reader may realise the prevalence and the extent of this African traveller’s bane by the fact that during my journey to Ujiji there was not a soul in the caravan, from Said bin Salim the Arab, to the veriest pauper, that did not desert or attempt to desert.

Here, at the first mention of slaves, I must explain to the reader why we were accompanied by them, and how the guide and escort contrived to purchase them. All the serving-men in Zanzibar Island and on the coast of E. Africa are serviles; the Kisawahili does not contain even a word to express a hired domestic. For the evil of slave-service there was no remedy: I therefore paid them their wages and treated them as if they were freemen. I had no power to prevent Said bin Salim, the Baloch escort, and the “sons of Ramji,” purchasing whomever they pleased; all objections on my part were overruled by, “we are allowed by our law to do so,” and by declaring that they had the permission of the consul. I was fain to content myself with seeing that their slaves were well fed and not injured, and indeed I had little trouble in so doing, as no man was foolish enough to spoil his own property. I never neglected to inform the wild people that Englishmen were pledged to the suppression of slavery, and I invariably refused all slaves offered as return presents.

The departure from Bomani was effected on the 1st of July with some trouble; it was like driving a herd of wild cattle. At length, by ejecting skulkers from their huts, by dint of promises and threats, of gentleness and violence, of soft words and hard words, occasionally backed by a smart application of the “Bakur”--the local “cat”--by sitting in the sun, in fact by incessant worry and fidget from 6 A. M. to 3 P. M., the sluggish and unwieldy body acquired some momentum. I had issued a few marching orders for the better protection of the baggage: two Baloch were told off for each donkey, one to lead, the other to drive; in case of attack, those near the head of the file, hearing the signal, three shots, were to leave their animals and to hurry to the front, where my companion marched, whilst the remainder rallied round my flag in the rear: thus there would have been an attacking party and a reserve, between which the asses would have been safe. The only result of these fine manœuvres was, that after a two-mile tramp through an umbrageous forest in which caravans often lose the way, and then down an easy descent across fertile fields, into a broken valley, whose further side was thick with luxuriant grass, tall shrubs, and majestic trees, a confused straggling line,--a mere mob of soldiers, slaves, and asses,--arrived at the little village of Mkwaju la Mvuani,--the “Tamarind in the rains.”

The settlement is composed as usual of a few hovels and a palaver-house, with a fine lime-tree, the place of lounging and gossip, grain-husking, and mat-weaving, in the open centre. Provisions and rough muddy water being here plentiful, travellers often make a final halt to polish their weapons, and to prepare their minds for the Wazaramo. It is the last station under the jurisdiction of Bagamoyo; from Changahera, the crafty old Diwan, I obtained the services of his nephew Muinyi Wazírá, who received seventeen dollars as an inducement to travel in the interior, and was at once constituted linguist and general assistant to Said bin Salim. The day passed as usual, a snake was killed, and a gun-shot heard in the distance supplied conversation for some hours. The “sons of Ramji” carefully lost half a dozen of the axes, bill-hooks, and dibbles, with which they had been supplied, fearing lest they might be called upon to build the Síwá or Bomá, the loose thorn-fence with which the halting-place ought to be surrounded before the night, and 7 P. M. had passed before I could persuade the Baloch to catch, tether, and count the asses. One of the escort, Ismail, was attacked with dysentery and required to be mounted, although we were obliged by the want of carriage to wend our way on foot. During the last night, Said bin Salim had taken charge of three Wanguru porters, who, freshly trapped by Said el Hazrami, had been chained _pro tempore_ to prevent desertion. The Arab boasted that he was a bad sleeper, but bad sleepers are worse watchers, because when they do sleep they sleep in earnest. The men were placed for the night in Said’s tent, surrounded by his five slaves, yet they stole his gun, and carrying off an axe and sundry bill-hooks, disappeared in the jungle. The watchful Said, after receiving many congratulations on his good fortune--fugitive slaves sometimes draw their knives across the master’s throat or insert the points into his eyes--sent off his own attendants to recover the fugitives. In the jungle, however, search was of scant avail: the Wanguru feared that if caught by the Baloch, they would lose their ears; three days would enable them to reach their own country; and their only risk was that if trapped by the Washenzi before their irons--a valuable capture to the captors--could be removed, they might again be sold to some travelling trader. As the day wore on, Said’s face assumed a deplorable expression: his slaves had not appeared, and though several of them were muwallid or born in his father’s house, and one was after a fashion his brother-in-law, he sorely dreaded that they also had deserted. He was proportionably delighted when in the dead of the night, entering Mkwaju la Mvuani, they reported ill-success; and though I could little afford the loss, I was glad to get rid of this chained and surly gang.

On the next day we began loading for the third and final departure, before dawn, and at 7.30 A. M. were on the dew-dripping way. Beyond the settlement a patch of jungle led to cultivated grounds belonging to the villagers, whose scattered and unfenced abodes were partially concealed by dense clumps of trees. The road then sweeping parallel with the river plain, which runs from N.W. to S.E., crossed several swamps, black muddy bottoms covered with tall thick rushes and pea-green paddy, and the heavily laden asses sunk knee-deep into the soft soil. Red copalliferous sand clothed the higher levels. On the wayside appeared for the first time the Khambi or substantial kraals, which evidence unsafe travelling and the unwillingness of caravans to bivouac in the villages. In this region they assumed the form of round huts and long sheds or boothies of straw or grass supported by a framework of rough sticks firmly planted in the ground and lashed together with bark-strips. The whole was surrounded with a deep circle of thorns which--the entrance or entrances being carefully closed at nightfall, not to reopen until dawn--formed a complete defence against bare feet and naked legs. About half-way a junction of the Mbuamaji road was reached, and the path became somewhat broader and less rough. Passing on the right, a hilly district, called Dunda or “the Hill,” the road fell from the ancient sea-beach into the alluvial valley of the Kinganí River; presently rising again, it entered the settlement of Nzasa, a name interpreted “level ground.”

Nzasa is the first district of independent Uzaramo. My men proceeded to occupy the Bandani, in the centre of the hamlet, when Said bin Salim, discovering with the sharp eye of fear a large drum, planted in readiness for the war-signal or the dance-signal, hurried about till he had turned all hands out of the village into a clump of trees hard by, a propitious place for surprise and ambuscade. Here I was visited by three P’hazi or headmen, Kizaya, Tumba Ihere or the “poison gourd,” and Kombe la Simba or the “lion’s hide.” They came to ascertain whether I was bound on peaceful errand or--as the number of our guns suggested--I was marching to revenge the murder of my “brother” Muzungu. Assured of our unwarlike intentions, they told me that I must halt on the morrow and send forward a message to the next chief. As this plan invariably loses three days,--the first being a _dies non_, the second being expended in dispensing exoteric information to all the lieges squatting in solemn conclave, whilst on the third the real message is privily whispered into the chieftain’s ear,--I replied through Said that I could not be bound by their rules, but was ready to pay for their infraction. During the debate upon this fascinating proposal for breaking the law, Yusuf, one of the most turbulent of the Baloch, drew his sword upon an old woman because she refused to give up a basket of grain. She rushed, with the face of a black Medusa, into the assembly, and provoked not very peaceable remarks concerning the peaceful nature of our intentions. When the excitement was allayed, the principal P’hazi began to ask what had brought the white man into their country, and in a breath to predict the loss of their gains and commerce, their land and liberty. “I am old,” pathetically quoth the P’hazi, “and my beard is grey, yet I have never beheld such a calamity as this!” “These men,” replied Said, “neither buy nor sell; they do not inquire into price, nor do they covet profit. Moreover,” he pursued, “what have ye to lose? The Arabs take your best, the Wasawahili your second best, and your trifling tribute is reduced to a yoke of bullocks, a few clothes, or half a dozen hoes.” An extravagant present--at that time ignorance of the country compelled me to intrust such matters to the honesty of Said bin Salim--opened the headmen’s hearts: they privily termed me Murungwana Sana, a real free-man, the African equivalent for the English “gentleman,” and they detached Kizaya to accompany me as far as the western half of the Kingani Valley. At 4 P. M. a loud drumming collected the women, who began to perform a dance of ceremony with peculiar vigour. A line of small, plump, chestnut-coloured beings, with wild beady eyes, and a thatch of clay-plastered hair, dressed in their loin-cloths, with a profusion of white disks, bead necklaces, a little square bib of beads called a t’hando, partially concealing the upper bosom, with short coils of thick brass wire wound so tightly round the wrists, the arms above the elbows, and the fat ankles, that they seemed to have grown into the flesh, and,--hideous perversion of taste!--with ample bosoms tightly corded down, advanced and retired in a convulsion of wriggle and contortion, whose fit expression was a long discordant howl, which seemed to

“Embowel with outrageous noise the air.”

I threw them a few strings of green beads, which for a moment interrupted the dance. One of these falling to the ground, I was stooping to pick it up when Said whispered hurriedly in my ear, “Bend not; they will say ‘he will not bend even to take up beads!’”

In the evening I walked down to the bed of the Kingani river, which bisects a plain all green with cultivation,--rice and holcus, sweet potato and tobacco,--and pleasantly studded with huts and hamlets. The width of the stream, which here runs over a broad bed of sand, is about fifty yards; it is nowhere fordable, as the ferry-boat belonging to each village proves, and thus far it is navigable, though rendered dangerous by the crocodiles and the hippopotami that house in its waters. The colour is tawny verging upon red, and the taste is soft and sweet, as if fed by rain. The Kingani, like all streams in this part of the continent, is full of fish, especially a dark-green and scaleless variety (a Silurus?) called Kambari, and other local names. This great “miller’s thumb” has fleshy cirri, appears to be omnivorous, and tastes like animal mud. The night was rendered uncomfortable to the Baloch by the sound of distant drums, which suggested fighting as well as feasting, and by the uproar of the wild men, who, when reconnoitred by the scouts, were found to be shouting away the hippopotami.

In the hurry and the confusion of loading on the next morning one ass was left behind, and the packs were so badly placed that the fatigue of marching was almost doubled by their repeated falls. Whilst descending the well-wooded river terrace, my portion of the escort descried an imaginary white flag crossing the grassy valley below. This is the sign of a Diwan’s expedition or commando: it is unwisely allowed by the Arabs, whose proper colours are a plain blood-red. After marching a few miles over undulating ground, open and parklike, and crossing rough and miry beds, the path disclosed a view verging upon the pretty. By the way side was planted the peculiarly African Mzimu or Fetiss hut, a penthouse about a foot high, containing, as votive offerings, ears of holcus or pombe-beer in a broken gourd. There, too, the graves of the heathen met the eye. In all other parts of East Africa a mouldering skull, a scattered skeleton, or a few calcined bones, the remains of wizards and witches dragged to the stake, are the only visible signs of man’s mortality. The Wazaramo tombs, especially in the cases of chiefs, imitate those of the Wamrima. They are parallelograms, seven feet by four, formed by a regular dwarf paling that encloses a space cleared of grass, and planted with two uprights to denote the position of head and feet. In one of the long walls there is an apology for a door. The corpse of the heathen is not made to front any especial direction; moreover the centre of the oblong has the hideous addition of a log carved by the unartistic African into a face and a bust singularly resembling those of a legless baboon, whilst a white rag tied turbanwise round the head serves for the inscription “this is a man.” The Baloch took notice of such idolatrous tendency by spitting and by pronouncing certain national anathemas, which literally translated might sound unpleasant in Europeans’ ears. The abomination of iconism is avoided in the graves of Moslem travellers: they are usually cleared ovals, with outlines of rough stone and a strew of smooth pebbles, according to the custom of the Wasawahili. Several stumps of wood planted in the earth show that the corpse faces Mecca, and, as amongst the Jinga of Western Africa, the fragments of a china bowl or cup lying upon the ground are sacred to the memory of the departed. In Zanzibar Island, also, saucers, plates, and similar articles are mortared into the tombstones.

The number of these graves made the blackness of my companions pale. They were hurrying forward with sundry “la haul!” and with boding shakes of the head, when suddenly an uproar in the van made them all prepare for action. They did it characteristically by beginning with begging for ranjak--priming powder. Said bin Salim, much excited, sent forward his messmate Muinyi Wazira to ascertain the cause of the excitement. One Mviraru, the petty lord of a neighbouring village, had barred the road with about a dozen men, demanding “dash,” and insisting that Kizaya had no right to lead on the party without halting to give him the news. My companion, who was attended only by “Bombay,” his gun-carrier, and a few Baloch, remarked to the interferers that he had been franked through the country by paying at Nzasa. To this they obstinately objected. The Baloch began to light their matches and to use hard words. A fight appeared imminent. Presently, however, when the Wazaramo saw my flag rounding the hill-shoulder with a fresh party, whose numbers were exaggerated by distance, they gave way; and finally when Muinyi Wazira opened upon them the invincible artillery of his tongue, they fell back and stood off the road to gaze. The linguist returned to the rear in great glee, blowing his finger tips, as if they had been attached to a matchlock, and otherwise deriding the overboiling valour of the Beloch, who, not suspecting his purport, indulged in the wildest outbreak of boasting, offering at once to take the whole country and to convert me into its sultan. Towards the end of the march we crossed a shallow, salt, bitter rivulet, flowing cold and clear towards the Kingani River. On the grassy plain below noble game--zebra and koodoo--began to appear; whilst guinea-fowl and partridge, quail, green-pigeon, and the cuculine bird, called in India the Malabar-pheasant, became numerous. A track of rich red copalliferous soil, wholly without stone, and supporting black mould, miry during the rains, and caked and cracked by the potent suns of the hot season, led us to Kiranga-Ranga, the first dangerous station in Uzaramo. It is the name of a hilly district, with many little villages embosomed in trees, overlooking the low cultivated bottoms where caravans encamp in the vicinity of the wells.

Before establishing themselves in the kraal at Kiranga-Ranga, the two rival parties of Baloch,--the Prince’s permanent escort and the temporary guard sent by Ladha Damha from Kaole--being in a chronic state of irritability, naturally quarrelled. With the noise of choughs gathering to roost they vented their bile, till thirteen men belonging to a certain Jemadar Mohammed suddenly started up, and without a word of explanation set out on their way home. According to Said bin Salim, the temporary guard had determined not to proceed beyond Kiranga-Ranga, and this desertion was intended as a preliminary to others by which the party would have lost two-thirds of its strength. I at once summoned the Jemadars, and wrote in their presence a letter reporting the conduct of their men to the dreaded Balyuz, the consul, who was supposed to be still anchored off Kaole. Seeing the bastinado in prospect, the Jemadar Yaruk shouldered his sabre, slung his shield over his arm, set out in pursuit of the fugitives, and soon succeeded in bringing them back. He was a good specimen of the true Baloch mountaineer--a tall, gaunt, and large-boned figure, with dark complexion deeply pitted by small-pox, hard, high, and sun-burnt features of exceeding harshness; an armoury in epitome was stuck in his belt, and his hand seemed never to rest but upon a weapon.

The 4th of July was a halt at Kiranga-Ranga. Two asses had been lost, the back-sinews of a third had been strained, and all the others had been so wearied by their inordinate burdens, to which on the last march the meat of a koodoo, equal in weight to a young bullock, had been superadded, that a rest was deemed indispensable. I took the opportunity of wandering over and of prospecting the country. The scene was one of admirable fertility; rice, maize, and manioc grew in the rankest and richest crops, and the uncultivated lands bore the Corindah bush (Carissa Carandas), the salsaparilla vine, the small whitish-green mulberry (the Morus alba of India), and the crimson flowers of the Rosel. In the lower levels near the river rose the giants of the forest. The Mparamusi shot up its tall head, whose bunchy tresses rustled in the breeze when all below was still. The stately Msufi, a Bombax or silk-cotton tree, showed as many as four or five trunks, each two to three feet in diameter, rising from the same roots; the long tapering branches stood out stiffly at right angles from the bole; and the leaves, instead of forming masses of foliage, were sparsely scattered in small dense growth. The Msukulio, unknown to the people of Zanzibar, was a pile of dark verdure, which dwarfed the finest oaks and elms of an English park. No traces of game appeared in the likeliest of places; perhaps it preferred lurking in the tall gross grass, which was not yet in a fit state to burn.

At Kiranga-Ranga the weather began to be unpropitious. The Mcho’o, the heavy showers which fall between the Masika or vernal, and the Vuli or autumnal rains, set in with regularity, and accompanied us during the transit of the maritime plain. I therefore refused to halt more than one day, although the P’hazi or chiefs of the Wazaramo showed, by sending presents of goats and grain, great civility--a civility purchased, however, by Said bin Salim at the price of giving to each man whatever he demanded; even women were never allowed to leave the camp unpropitiated. I was not permitted in this part to enter the villages, although the Wazaramo do not usually exclude strangers who venture upon their dangerous hospitality. Girls are appointed to attend upon them, and in case of sickness or accident happening to any one in the settlement, they are severely interrogated concerning the morality of the guest, and an unfavourable account of it leads to extortion and violence. The Wazaramo, like the Wagogo, and unlike the other East African tribes, are jealous of their women; still “damages” will act, as they have acted in other lands, as salve to wounded honour and broken heart.