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A Popular Account of Dr. Livingstone's Expedition to the
Zambesi and Its Tributaries: And of the Discovery of the
Lakes Shirwa and Nyassa (1858-1864)
by David Livingstone
February, 2001 [Etext #2519]
The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Zambesi Expedition by David Livingstone
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A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S EXPEDITION TO THE
ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES AND THE DISCOVERY OF LAKES
SHIRWA AND NYASSA 1858-1864
TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD PALMERSTON,
K.G., G.C.B.
My Lord,
I beg leave to dedicate this Volume to your Lordship, as a tribute
justly due to the great Statesman who has ever had at heart the
amelioration of the African race; and as a token of admiration of the
beneficial effects of that policy which he has so long laboured to
establish on the West Coast of Africa; and which, in improving that
region, has most forcibly shown the need of some similar system on
the opposite side of the Continent.
DAVID LIVINGSTONE.
NOTICE TO THIS WORK.
The name of the late Mr. Charles Livingstone takes a prominent place
amongst those who acted under the leadership of Dr. Livingstone
during the adventurous sojourn of the "Zambesi Expedition" in East
Africa. In laying the result of their discoveries before the public,
it was arranged that Mr. Charles Livingstone should place his
voluminous notes at the disposal of his brother: they are
incorporated in the present work, but in a necessarily abridged form.
PREFACE.
It has been my object in this work to give as clear an account as I
was able of tracts of country previously unexplored, with their river
systems, natural productions, and capabilities; and to bring before
my countrymen, and all others interested in the cause of humanity,
the misery entailed by the slave-trade in its inland phases; a
subject on which I and my companions are the first who have had any
opportunities of forming a judgment. The eight years spent in
Africa, since my last work was published, have not, I fear, improved
my power of writing English; but I hope that, whatever my
descriptions want in clearness, or literary skill, may in a measure
be compensated by the novelty of the scenes described, and the
additional information afforded on that curse of Africa, and that
shame, even now, in the 19th century, of an European nation,--the
slave-trade.
I took the "Lady Nyassa" to Bombay for the express purpose of selling
her, and might without any difficulty have done so; but with the
thought of parting with her arose, more strongly than ever, the
feeling of disinclination to abandon the East Coast of Africa to the
Portuguese and slave-trading, and I determined to run home and
consult my friends before I allowed the little vessel to pass from my
hands. After, therefore, having put two Ajawa lads, Chuma and
Wakatani, to school under the eminent missionary the Rev. Dr. Wilson,
and having provided satisfactorily for the native crew, I started
homewards with the three white sailors, and reached London July 20th,
1864. Mr. and Mrs. Webb, my much-loved friends, wrote to Bombay
inviting me, in the event of my coming to England, to make Newstead
Abbey my headquarters, and on my arrival renewed their invitation:
and though, when I accepted it, I had no intention of remaining so
long with my kind-hearted generous friends, I stayed with them until
April, 1865, and under their roof transcribed from my own and my
brother's journal the whole of this present book. It is with
heartfelt gratitude I would record their unwearied kindness. My
acquaintance with Mr. Webb began in Africa, where he was a daring and
successful hunter, and his continued friendship is most valuable
because he has seen missionary work, and he would not accord his
respect and esteem to me had he not believed that I, and my brethren
also, were to be looked on as honest men earnestly trying to do our
duty.
The Government have supported the proposal of the Royal Geographical
Society made by my friend Sir Roderick Murchison, and have united
with that body to aid me in another attempt to open Africa to
civilizing influences, and a valued private friend has given a
thousand pounds for the same object. I propose to go inland, north
of the territory which the Portuguese in Europe claim, and endeavour
to commence that system on the East which has been so eminently
successful on the West Coast; a system combining the repressive
efforts of H.M. cruisers with lawful trade and Christian Missions--
the moral and material results of which have been so gratifying. I
hope to ascend the Rovuma, or some other river North of Cape Delgado,
and, in addition to my other work, shall strive, by passing along the
Northern end of Lake Nyassa and round the Southern end of Lake
Tanganyika, to ascertain the watershed of that part of Africa. In so
doing, I have no wish to unsettle what with so much toil and danger
was accomplished by Speke and Grant, but rather to confirm their
illustrious discoveries.
I have to acknowledge the obliging readiness of Lord Russell in
lending me the drawings taken by the artist who was in the first
instance attached to the Expedition. These sketches, with
photographs by Charles Livingstone and Dr. Kirk, have materially
assisted in the illustrations. I would also very sincerely thank my
friends Professor Owen and Mr. Oswell for many valuable hints and
other aid in the preparation of this volume.
Newstead Abbey,
April 16, 1865.
THE ZAMBESI AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.
INTRODUCTION.
Objects of the Expedition--Personal Interest shown by Naval
Authorities--Members of the Zambesi Expedition.
When first I determined on publishing the narrative of my "Missionary
Travels," I had a great misgiving as to whether the criticism my
endeavours might provoke would be friendly or the reverse, more
particularly as I felt that I had then been so long a sojourner in
the wilderness, as to be quite a stranger to the British public. But
I am now in this, my second essay at authorship, cheered by the
conviction that very many readers, who are personally unknown to me,
will receive this narrative with the kindly consideration and
allowances of friends; and that many more, under the genial
influences of an innate love of liberty, and of a desire to see the
same social and religious blessings they themselves enjoy,
disseminated throughout the world, will sympathize with me in the
efforts by which I have striven, however imperfectly, to elevate the
position and character of our fellow-men in Africa. This knowledge
makes me doubly anxious to render my narrative acceptable to all my
readers; but, in the absence of any excellence in literary
composition, the natural consequence of my pursuits, I have to offer
only a simple account of a mission which, with respect to the objects
proposed to be thereby accomplished, formed a noble contrast to some
of the earlier expeditions to Eastern Africa. I believe that the
information it will give, respecting the people visited and the
countries traversed, will not be materially gainsaid by any future
commonplace traveller like myself, who may be blest with fair health
and a gleam of sunshine in his breast. This account is written in
the earnest hope that it may contribute to that information which
will yet cause the great and fertile continent of Africa to be no
longer kept wantonly sealed, but made available as the scene of
European enterprise, and will enable its people to take a place among
the nations of the earth, thus securing the happiness and prosperity
of tribes now sunk in barbarism or debased by slavery; and, above
all, I cherish the hope that it may lead to the introduction of the
blessings of the Gospel.
In order that the following narrative may be clearly understood, it
is necessary to call to mind some things which took place previous to
the Zambesi Expedition being sent out. Most geographers are aware
that, before the discovery of Lake Ngami and the well-watered country
in which the Makololo dwell, the idea prevailed that a large part of
the interior of Africa consisted of sandy deserts, into which rivers
ran and were lost. During my journey in 1852-6, from sea to sea,
across the south intertropical part of the continent, it was found to
be a well-watered country, with large tracts of fine fertile soil
covered with forest, and beautiful grassy valleys, occupied by a
considerable population; and one of the most wonderful waterfalls in
the world was brought to light. The peculiar form of the continent
was then ascertained to be an elevated plateau, somewhat depressed in
the centre, and with fissures in the sides by which the rivers
escaped to the sea; and this great fact in physical geography can
never be referred to without calling to mind the remarkable
hypothesis by which the distinguished President of the Royal
Geographical Society (Sir Roderick I. Murchison) clearly indicated
this peculiarity, before it was verified by actual observation of the
altitudes of the country and by the courses of the rivers. New light
was thrown on other portions of the continent by the famous travels
of Dr. Barth, by the researches of the Church of England missionaries
Krapf, Erkhardt, and Rebman, by the persevering efforts of Dr.
Baikie, the last martyr to the climate and English enterprise, by the
journey of Francis Galton, and by the most interesting discoveries of
Lakes Tanganyika and Victoria Nyanza by Captain Burton, and by
Captain Speke, whose untimely end we all so deeply deplore. Then
followed the researches of Van der Decken, Thornton, and others; and
last of all the grand discovery of the main source of the Nile, which
every Englishman must feel an honest pride in knowing was
accomplished by our gallant countrymen, Speke and Grant. The
fabulous torrid zone, of parched and burning sand, was now proved to
be a well-watered region resembling North America in its fresh-water
lakes, and India in its hot humid lowlands, jungles, ghauts, and cool
highland plains.
The main object of this Zambesi Expedition, as our instructions from
Her Majesty's Government explicitly stated, was to extend the
knowledge already attained of the geography and mineral and
agricultural resources of Eastern and Central Africa--to improve our
acquaintance with the inhabitants, and to endeavour to engage them to
apply themselves to industrial pursuits and to the cultivation of
their lands, with a view to the production of raw material to be
exported to England in return for British manufactures; and it was
hoped that, by encouraging the natives to occupy themselves in the
development of the resources of the country, a considerable advance
might be made towards the extinction of the slave-trade, as they
would not be long in discovering that the former would eventually be
a more certain source of profit than the latter. The Expedition was
sent in accordance with the settled policy of the English Government;
and the Earl of Clarendon, being then at the head of the Foreign
Office, the Mission was organized under his immediate care. When a
change of Government ensued, we experienced the same generous
countenance and sympathy from the Earl of Malmesbury, as we had
previously received from Lord Clarendon; and, on the accession of
Earl Russell to the high office he has so long filled, we were always
favoured with equally ready attention and the same prompt assistance.
Thus the conviction was produced that our work embodied the
principles, not of any one party, but of the hearts of the statesmen
and of the people of England generally. The Expedition owes great
obligations to the Lords of the Admiralty for their unvarying
readiness to render us every assistance in their power; and to the
warm-hearted and ever-obliging hydrographer to the Admiralty, the
late Admiral Washington, as a subordinate, but most effective agent,
our heartfelt gratitude is also due; and we must ever thankfully
acknowledge that our efficiency was mainly due to the kind services
of Admirals Sir Frederick Grey, Sir Baldwin Walker, and all the naval
officers serving under them on the East Coast. Nor must I omit to
record our obligations to Mr. Skead, R.N. The Luawe was carefully
sounded and surveyed by this officer, whose skilful and zealous
labours, both on that river, and afterwards on the Lower Zambesi,
were deserving of all praise.
In speaking of what has been done by the Expedition, it should always
be understood that Dr. Kirk, Mr. Charles Livingstone, Mr. R.
Thornton, and others composed it. In using the plural number they
are meant, and I wish to bear testimony to the untiring zeal, energy,
courage, and perseverance with which my companions laboured;
undaunted by difficulties, dangers, or hard fare. It is my firm
belief that, were their services required in any other capacity, they
might be implicitly relied on to perform their duty like men. The
reason why Dr. Kirk's name does not appear on the title-page of this
narrative is, because it is hoped that he may give an account of the
botany and natural history of the Expedition in a separate work from
his own pen. He collected above four thousand species of plants,
specimens of most of the valuable woods, of the different native
manufactures, of the articles of food, and of the different kinds of
cotton from every spot we visited, and a great variety of birds and
insects; besides making meteorological observations, and affording,
as our instructions required, medical assistance to the natives in
every case where he could be of any use.
Charles Livingstone was also fully occupied in his duties in
following out the general objects of our mission, in encouraging the
culture of cotton, in making many magnetic and meteorological
observations, in photographing so long as the materials would serve,
and in collecting a large number of birds, insects, and other objects
of interest. The collections, being Government property, have been
forwarded to the British Museum, and to the Royal Botanic, Gardens at
Kew; and should Dr. Kirk undertake their description, three or four
years will be required for the purpose.
Though collections were made, it was always distinctly understood
that, however desirable these and our explorations might be, "Her
Majesty's Government attached more importance to the moral influence
that might be exerted on the minds of the natives by a well-regulated
and orderly household of Europeans setting an example of consistent
moral conduct to all who might witness it; treating the people with
kindness, and relieving their wants, teaching them to make
experiments in agriculture, explaining to them the more simple arts,
imparting to them religious instruction as far as they are capable of
receiving it, and inculcating peace and good will to each other."
It would be tiresome to enumerate in detail all the little acts which
were performed by us while following out our instructions. As a
rule, whenever the steamer stopped to take in wood, or for any other
purpose, Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone went ashore to their
duties: one of our party, who it was intended should navigate the
vessel and lay down the geographical positions, having failed to
answer the expectations formed of him, these duties fell chiefly to
my share. They involved a considerable amount of night work, in
which I was always cheerfully aided by my companions, and the results
were regularly communicated to our warm and ever-ready friend, Sir
Thomas Maclear of the Royal Observatory, Cape of Good Hope. While
this work was going through the press, we were favoured with the
longitudes of several stations determined from observed occultations
of stars by the moon, and from eclipses and reappearances of
Jupiter's satellites, by Mr. Mann, the able Assistant to the Cape
Astronomer Royal; the lunars are still in the hands of Mr. G. W. H.
Maclear of the same Observatory. In addition to these, the
altitudes, variations of the compass, latitudes and longitudes, as
calculated on the spot, appear in the map by Mr. Arrowsmith, and it
is hoped may not differ much from the results of the same data in
abler bands. The office of "skipper," which, rather than let the
Expedition come to a stand, I undertook, required no great ability in
one "not too old to learn:" it saved a salary, and, what was much
more valuable than gold, saved the Expedition from the drawback of
any one thinking that he was indispensable to its further progress.
The office required attention to the vessel both at rest and in
motion. It also involved considerable exposure to the sun; and to my
regret kept me from much anticipated intercourse with the natives,
and the formation of full vocabularies of their dialects.
I may add that all wearisome repetitions are as much as possible
avoided in the narrative; and, our movements and operations having
previously been given in a series of despatches, the attempt is now
made to give as fairly as possible just what would most strike any
person of ordinary intelligence in passing through the country. For
the sake of the freshness which usually attaches to first
impressions, the Journal of Charles Livingstone has been incorporated
in the narrative; and many remarks made by the natives, which ho put
down at the moment of translation, will convey to others the same
ideas as they did to ourselves. Some are no doubt trivial; but it is
by the little acts and words of every-day life that character is
truly and best known. And doubtless many will prefer to draw their
own conclusions from them rather than to be schooled by us.
CHAPTER I.
Arrival at the Zambesi--Rebel Warfare--Wild Animals--Shupanga--
Hippopotamus Hunters--The Makololo--Crocodiles.
The Expedition left England on the 10th of March, 1858, in Her
Majesty's Colonial Steamer "Pearl," commanded by Captain Duncan; and,
after enjoying the generous hospitality of our friends at Cape Town,
with the obliging attentions of Sir George Grey, and receiving on
board Mr. Francis Skead, R.N., as surveyor, we reached the East Coast
in the following May.
Our first object was to explore the Zambesi, its mouths and
tributaries, with a view to their being used as highways for commerce
and Christianity to pass into the vast interior of Africa. When we
came within five or six miles of the land, the yellowish-green tinge
of the sea in soundings was suddenly succeeded by muddy water with
wrack, as of a river in flood. The two colours did not intermingle,
but the line of contact was as sharply defined as when the ocean
meets the land. It was observed that under the wrack--consisting of
reeds, sticks, and leaves.--and even under floating cuttlefish bones
and Portuguese "men-of-war" (Physalia), numbers of small fish screen
themselves from the eyes of birds of prey, and from the rays of the
torrid sun.
We entered the river Luawe first, because its entrance is so smooth
and deep, that the "Pearl," drawing 9 feet 7 inches, went in without
a boat sounding ahead. A small steam launch having been brought out
from England in three sections on the deck of the "Pearl" was hoisted
out and screwed together at the anchorage, and with her aid the
exploration was commenced. She was called the "Ma Robert," after
Mrs. Livingstone, to whom the natives, according to their custom,
gave the name Ma (mother) of her eldest son. The harbour is deep,
but shut in by mangrove swamps; and though the water a few miles up
is fresh, it is only a tidal river; for, after ascending some seventy
miles, it was found to end in marshes blocked up with reeds and
succulent aquatic plants. As the Luawe had been called "West Luabo,"
it was supposed to be a branch of the Zambesi, the main stream of
which is called "Luabo," or "East Luabo." The "Ma Robert" and
"Pearl" then went to what proved to be a real mouth of the river we
sought.
The Zambesi pours its waters into the ocean by four mouths, namely,
the Milambe, which is the most westerly, the Kongone, the Luabo, and
the Timbwe (or Muselo). When the river is in flood, a natural canal
running parallel with the coast, and winding very much among the
swamps, forms a secret way for conveying slaves from Quillimane to
the bays Massangano and Nameara, or to the Zambesi itself. The
Kwakwa, or river of Quillimane, some sixty miles distant from the
mouth of the Zambesi, has long been represented as the principal
entrance to the Zambesi, in order, as the Portuguese now maintain,
that the English cruisers might be induced to watch the false mouth,
while slaves were quietly shipped from the true one; and, strange to
say, this error has lately been propagated by a map issued by the
colonial minister of Portugal.
After the examination of three branches by the able and energetic
surveyor, Francis Skead, R.N., the Kongone was found to be the best
entrance. The immense amount of sand brought down by the Zambesi has
in the course of ages formed a sort of promontory, against which the
long swell of the Indian Ocean, beating during the prevailing winds,
has formed bars, which, acting against the waters of the delta, may
have led to their exit sideways. The Kongone is one of those lateral
branches, and the safest; inasmuch as the bar has nearly two fathoms
on it at low water, and the rise at spring tides is from twelve to
fourteen feet. The bar is narrow, the passage nearly straight, and,
were it buoyed and a beacon placed on Pearl Island, would always be
safe to a steamer. When the wind is from the east or north, the bar
is smooth; if from the south and south-east, it has a heavy break on
it, and is not to be attempted in boats. A strong current setting to
the east when the tide is flowing, and to the west when ebbing, may
drag a boat or ship into the breakers. If one is doubtful of his
longitude and runs east, he will soon see the land at Timbwe
disappear away to the north; and coming west again, he can easily
make out East Luabo from its great size; and Kongone follows several
miles west. East Luabo has a good but long bar, and not to be
attempted unless the wind be north-east or east. It has sometimes
been called "Barra Catrina," and was used in the embarkations of
slaves. This may have been the "River of Good Signs," of Vasco da
Gama, as the mouth is more easily seen from the seaward than any
other; but the absence of the pillar dedicated by that navigator to
"St. Raphael," leaves the matter in doubt. No Portuguese live within
eighty miles of any mouth of the Zambesi.
The Kongone is five miles east of the Milambe, or western branch, and
seven miles west from East Luabo, which again is five miles from the
Timbwe. We saw but few natives, and these, by escaping from their
canoes into the mangrove thickets the moment they caught sight of us,
gave unmistakeable indications that they had no very favourable
opinion of white men. They were probably fugitives from Portuguese
slavery. In the grassy glades buffaloes, wart-hogs, and three kinds
of antelope were abundant, and the latter easily obtained. A few
hours' hunting usually provided venison enough for a score of men for
several days.
On proceeding up the Kongone branch it was found that, by keeping
well in the bends, which the current had worn deep, shoals were
easily avoided. The first twenty miles are straight and deep; then a
small and rather tortuous natural canal leads off to the right, and,
after about five miles, during which the paddles almost touch the
floating grass of the sides, ends in the broad Zambesi. The rest of
the Kongone branch comes out of the main stream considerably higher
up as the outgoing branch called Doto.
The first twenty miles of the Kongone are enclosed in mangrove
jungle; some of the trees are ornamented with orchilla weed, which
appears never to have been gathered. Huge ferns, palm bushes, and
occasionally wild date-palms peer out in the forest, which consists
of different species of mangroves; the bunches of bright yellow,
though scarcely edible fruit, contrasting prettily with the graceful
green leaves. In some spots the Milola, an umbrageous hibiscus, with
large yellowish flowers, grows in masses along the bank. Its bark is
made into cordage, and is especially valuable for the manufacture of
ropes attached to harpoons for killing the hippopotamus. The
Pandanus or screw-palm, from which sugar bags are made in the
Mauritius, also appears, and on coming out of the canal into the
Zambesi many are so tall as in the distance to remind us of the
steeples of our native land, and make us relish the remark of an old
sailor, "that but one thing was wanting to complete the picture, and
that was a 'grog-shop near the church.'" We find also a few guava
and lime-trees growing wild, but the natives claim the crops. The
dark woods resound with the lively and exultant song of the
kinghunter (Halcyon striolata), as he sits perched on high among the
trees. As the steamer moves on through the winding channel, a pretty
little heron or bright kingfisher darts out in alarm from the edge of
the bank, flies on ahead a short distance, and settles quietly down
to be again frightened off in a few seconds as we approach. The
magnificent fishhawk (Halietus vocifer) sits on the top of a
mangrove-tree, digesting his morning meal of fresh fish, and is
clearly unwilling to stir until the imminence of the danger compels
him at last to spread his great wings for flight. The glossy ibis,
acute of ear to a remarkable degree, hears from afar the unwonted
sound of the paddles, and, springing from the mud where his family
has been quietly feasting, is off, screaming out his loud, harsh, and
defiant Ha! ha! ha! long before the danger is near.
Several native huts now peep out from the bananas and cocoa-palms on
the right bank; they stand on piles a few feet above the low damp
ground, and their owners enter them by means of ladders. The soil is
wonderfully rich, and the gardens are really excellent. Rice is
cultivated largely; sweet potatoes, pumpkins, tomatoes, cabbages,
onions (shalots), peas, a little cotton, and sugar-cane are also
raised. It is said that English potatoes, when planted at Quillimane
on soil resembling this, in the course of two years become in taste
like sweet potatoes (Convolvulus batatas), and are like our potato
frosted. The whole of the fertile region extending from the Kongone
canal to beyond Mazaro, some eighty miles in length, and fifty in
breadth, is admirably adapted for the growth of sugar-cane; and were
it in the hands of our friends at the Cape, would supply all Europe
with sugar. The remarkably few people seen appear to be tolerably
well fed, but there was a dearth of clothing among them; all were
blacks, and nearly all Portuguese "colonos" or serfs. They
manifested no fear of white men, and stood in groups on the bank
gazing in astonishment at the steamers, especially at the "Pearl,"
which accompanied us thus far up the river. One old man who came on
board remarked that never before had he seen any vessel so large as
the "Pearl," it was like a village, "Was it made out of one tree?"
All were eager traders, and soon came off to the ship in light swift
canoes with every kind of fruit and food they possessed; a few
brought honey and beeswax, which are found in quantities in the
mangrove forests. As the ships steamed off, many anxious sellers ran
along the bank, holding up fowls, baskets of rice and meal, and
shouting "Malonda, Malonda," "things for sale," while others followed
in canoes, which they sent through the water with great velocity by
means of short broad-bladed paddles.
Finding the "Pearl's" draught too great for that part of the river
near the island of Simbo, where the branch called the Doto is given
off to the Kongone on the right bank, and another named Chinde
departs to the secret canal already mentioned on the left, the goods
belonging to the expedition were taken out of her, and placed on one
of the grassy islands about forty miles from the bar. The "Pearl"
then left us, and we had to part with our good friends Duncan and
Skead; the former for Ceylon, the latter to return to his duties as
Government Surveyor at the Cape.
Of those who eventually did the work of the expedition the majority
took a sober common-sense view of the enterprise in which we were
engaged. Some remained on Expedition Island from the 18th June until
the 13th August, while the launch and pinnace were carrying the goods
up to Shupanga and Senna. The country was in a state of war, our
luggage was in danger, and several of our party were exposed to
disease from inactivity in the malaria of the delta. Here some had
their first introduction to African life, and African fever. Those
alone were safe who were actively employed with the vessels, and of
course, remembering the perilous position of their fellows, they
strained every nerve to finish the work and take them away.
Large columns of smoke rose daily from different points of the
horizon, showing that the natives were burning off the immense crops
of tall grass, here a nuisance, however valuable elsewhere. A white
cloud was often observed to rest on the head of the column, as if a
current of hot damp air was sent up by the heat of the flames and its
moisture was condensed at the top. Rain did not follow, though
theorists have imagined that in such cases it ought.
Large game, buffaloes, and zebras, were abundant abreast the island,
but no men could be seen. On the mainland, over on the right bank of
the river, we were amused by the eccentric gyrations and evolutions
of flocks of small seed-eating birds, who in their flight wheeled
into compact columns with such military precision as to give us the
impression that they must be guided by a leader, and all directed by
the same signal. Several other kinds of small birds now go in
flocks, and among others the large Senegal swallow. The presence of
this bird, being clearly in a state of migration from the north,
while the common swallow of the country, and the brown kite are away
beyond the equator, leads to the conjecture that there may be a
double migration, namely, of birds from torrid climates to the more
temperate, as this now is, as well as from severe winters to sunny
regions; but this could not be verified by such birds of passage as
ourselves.
On reaching Mazaro, the mouth of a narrow creek which in floods
communicates with the Quillimane river, we found that the Portuguese
were at war with a half-caste named Mariano alias Matakenya, from
whom they had generally fled, and who, having built a stockade near
the mouth of the Shire, owned all the country between that river and
Mazaro. Mariano was best known by his native name Matakenya, which
in their tongue means "trembling," or quivering as trees do in a
storm. He was a keen slave-hunter, and kept a large number of men,
well armed with muskets. It is an entire mistake to suppose that the
slave trade is one of buying and selling alone; or that engagements
can be made with labourers in Africa as they are in India; Mariano,
like other Portuguese, had no labour to spare. He had been in the
habit of sending out armed parties on slave-hunting forays among the
helpless tribes to the north-east, and carrying down the kidnapped
victims in chains to Quillimane, where they were sold by his brother-
in-law Cruz Coimbra, and shipped as "Free emigrants" to the French
island of Bourbon. So long as his robberies and murders were
restricted to the natives at a distance, the authorities did not
interfere; but his men, trained to deeds of violence and bloodshed in
their slave forays, naturally began to practise on the people nearer
at hand, though belonging to the Portuguese, and even in the village
of Senna, under the guns of the fort. A gentleman of the highest
standing told us that, while at dinner with his family, it was no
uncommon event for a slave to rush into the room pursued by one of
Mariano's men with spear in hand to murder him.
The atrocities of this villain, aptly termed by the late governor of
Quillimane a "notorious robber and murderer," became at length
intolerable. All the Portuguese spoke of him as a rare monster of
inhumanity. It is unaccountable why half-castes, such as he, are so
much more cruel than the Portuguese, but such is undoubtedly the
case.
It was asserted that one of his favourite modes of creating an
impression in the country, and making his name dreaded, was to spear
his captives with his own hands. On one occasion he is reported to
have thus killed forty poor wretches placed in a row before him. We
did not at first credit these statements, and thought that they were
merely exaggerations of the incensed Portuguese, who naturally enough
were exasperated with him for stopping their trade, and harbouring
their runaway slaves; but we learned afterwards from the natives,
that the accounts given us by the Portuguese had not exceeded the
truth; and that Mariano was quite as great a ruffian as they had
described him. One expects slave-owners to treat their human
chattels as well as men do other animals of value, but the slave-
trade seems always to engender an unreasoning ferocity, if not blood-
thirstiness.
War was declared against Mariano, and a force sent to take him; he
resisted for a time; but seeing that he was likely to get the worst
of it, and knowing that the Portuguese governors have small salaries,
and are therefore "disposed to be reasonable," he went down to
Quillimane to "arrange" with the Governor, as it is termed here; but
Colonel da Silva put him in prison, and then sent him for trial to
Mozambique. When we came into the country, his people were fighting
under his brother Bonga. The war had lasted six months and stopped
all trade on the river during that period. On the 15th June we first
came into contact with the "rebels." They appeared as a crowd of
well-armed and fantastically-dressed people under the trees at
Mazaro. On explaining that we were English, some at once came on
board and called to those on shore to lay aside their arms. On
landing among them we saw that many had the branded marks of slaves
on their chests, but they warmly approved our objects, and knew well
the distinctive character of our nation on the slave question. The
shout at our departure contrasted strongly with the suspicious
questioning on our approach. Hence-forward we were recognized as
friends by both parties.
At a later period we were taking in wood within a mile of the scene
of action, but a dense fog prevented our hearing the noise of a
battle at Mazaro; and on arriving there, immediately after, many
natives and Portuguese appeared on the bank.
Dr. Livingstone, landing to salute some of his old friends among the
latter, found himself in the sickening smell, and among the mutilated
bodies of the slain; he was requested to take the Governor, who was
very ill of fever, across to Shupanga, and just as he gave his
assent, the rebels renewed the fight, and the balls began to whistle
about in all directions. After trying in vain to get some one to
assist the Governor down to the steamer, and unwilling to leave him
in such danger, as the officer sent to bring our Kroomen did not
appear, he went into the hut, and dragged along his Excellency to the
ship. He was a very tall man, and as he swayed hither and thither
from weakness, weighing down Dr. Livingstone, it must have appeared
like one drunken man helping another. Some of the Portuguese white
soldiers stood fighting with great bravery against the enemy in
front, while a few were coolly shooting at their own slaves for
fleeing into the river behind. The rebels soon retired, and the
Portuguese escaped to a sandbank in the Zambesi, and thence to an
island opposite Shupanga, where they lay for some weeks, looking at
the rebels on the mainland opposite. This state of inactivity on the
part of the Portuguese could not well be helped, as they had expended
all their ammunition and were waiting anxiously for supplies; hoping,
no doubt sincerely, that the enemy might not hear that their powder
had failed. Luckily their hopes were not disappointed; the rebels
waited until a supply came, and were then repulsed after three-and-a-
half hours' hard fighting. Two months afterwards Mariano's stockade
was burned, the garrison having fled in a panic; and as Bonga
declared that he did not wish to fight with this Governor, with whom
he had no quarrel, the war soon came to an end. His Excellency
meanwhile, being a disciple of Raspail, had taken nothing for the
fever but a little camphor, and after he was taken to Shupanga became
comatose. More potent remedies were administered to him, to his
intense disgust, and he soon recovered. The Colonel in attendance,
whom he never afterwards forgave, encouraged the treatment. "Give
what is right; never mind him; he is very (muito) impertinent:" and
all night long, with every draught of water the Colonel gave a
quantity of quinine: the consequence was, next morning the patient
was cinchonized and better.
For sixty or seventy miles before reaching Mazaro, the scenery is
tame and uninteresting. On either hand is a dreary uninhabited
expanse, of the same level grassy plains, with merely a few trees to
relieve the painful monotony. The round green top of the stately
palm-tree looks at a distance, when its grey trunk cannot be seen, as
though hung in mid-air. Many flocks of busy sand-martins, which
here, and as far south as the Orange River, do not migrate, have
perforated the banks two or three feet horizontally, in order to
place their nests at the ends, and are now chasing on restless wing
the myriads of tropical insects. The broad river has many low
islands, on which are seen various kinds of waterfowl, such as geese,
spoonbills, herons, and flamingoes. Repulsive crocodiles, as with
open jaws they sleep and bask in the sun on the low banks, soon catch
the sound of the revolving paddles and glide quietly into the stream.
The hippopotamus, having selected some still reach of the river to
spend the day, rises out of the bottom, where he has been enjoying
his morning bath after the labours of the night on shore, blows a
puff of spray from his nostrils, shakes the water out of his ears,
puts his enormous snout up straight and yawns, sounding a loud alarm
to the rest of the herd, with notes as of a monster bassoon.
As we approach Mazaro the scenery improves. We see the well-wooded
Shupanga ridge stretching to the left, and in front blue hills rise
dimly far in the distance. There is no trade whatever on the Zambesi
below Mazaro. All the merchandise of Senna and Tette is brought to
that point in large canoes, and thence carried six miles across the
country on men's heads to be reshipped on a small stream that flows
into the Kwakwa, or Quillimane river, which is entirely distinct from
the Zambesi. Only on rare occasions and during the highest floods
can canoes pass from the Zambesi to the Quillimane river through the
narrow natural canal Mutu. The natives of Maruru, or the country
around Mazaro, the word Mazaro meaning the "mouth of the creek" Mutu,
have a bad name among the Portuguese; they are said to be expert
thieves, and the merchants sometimes suffer from their adroitness
while the goods are in transit from one river to the other. In
general they are trained canoe-men, and man many of the canoes that
ply thence to Senna and Tette; their pay is small, and, not trusting
the traders, they must always have it before they start. Africans
being prone to assign plausible reasons for their conduct, like white
men in more enlightened lands, it is possible they may be good-
humouredly giving their reason for insisting on being invariably paid
in advance in the words of their favourite canoe-song, "Uachingere,
Uachingere Kale," "You cheated me of old;" or, "Thou art slippery
slippery truly."
The Landeens or Zulus are lords of the right bank of the Zambesi; and
the Portuguese, by paying this fighting tribe a pretty heavy annual
tribute, practically admit this. Regularly every year come the Zulus
in force to Senna and Shupanga for the accustomed tribute. The few
wealthy merchants of Senna groan under the burden, for it falls
chiefly on them. They submit to pay annually 200 pieces of cloth, of
sixteen yards each, besides beads and brass wire, knowing that
refusal involves war, which might end in the loss of all they
possess. The Zulus appear to keep as sharp a look out on the Senna
and Shupanga people as ever landlord did on tenant; the more they
cultivate, the more tribute they have to pay. On asking some of them
why they did not endeavour to raise certain highly profitable
products, we were answered, "What's the use of our cultivating any
more than we do? the Landeens would only come down on us for more
tribute."
In the forests of Shupanga the Mokundu-kundu tree abounds; its bright
yellow wood makes good boat-masts, and yields a strong bitter
medicine for fever; the Gunda-tree attains to an immense size; its
timber is hard, rather cross-grained, with masses of silica deposited
in its substance; the large canoes, capable of carrying three or four
tons, are made of its wood. For permission to cut these trees, a
Portuguese gentleman of Quillimane was paying the Zulus, in 1858, two
hundred dollars a year, and his successor now pays three hundred.
At Shupanga, a one-storied stone house stands on the prettiest site
on the river. In front a sloping lawn, with a fine mango orchard at
its southern end, leads down to the broad Zambesi, whose green
islands repose on the sunny bosom of the tranquil waters. Beyond,
northwards, lie vast fields and forests of palm and tropical trees,
with the massive mountain of Morambala towering amidst the white
clouds; and further away more distant hills appear in the blue
horizon. This beautifully situated house possesses a melancholy
interest from having been associated in a most mournful manner with
the history of two English expeditions. Here, in 1826, poor
Kirkpatrick, of Captain Owen's Surveying Expedition, died of fever;
and here, in 1862, died, of the same fatal disease, the beloved wife
of Dr. Livingstone. A hundred yards east of the house, under a large
Baobab-tree, far from their native land, both are buried.
The Shupanga-house was the head-quarters of the Governor during the
Mariano war. He told us that the province of Mosambique costs the
Home Government between 5000l. and 6000l. annually, and East Africa
yields no reward in return to the mother country. We met there
several other influential Portuguese. All seemed friendly, and
expressed their willingness to assist the expedition in every way in
their power; and better still, Colonel Nunes and Major Sicard put
their good-will into action, by cutting wood for the steamer and
sending men to help in unloading. It was observable that not one of
them knew anything about the Kongone Mouth; all thought that we had
come in by the "Barra Catrina," or East Luabo. Dr. Kirk remained
here a few weeks; and, besides exploring a small lake twenty miles to
the south-west, had the sole medical care of the sick and wounded
soldiers, for which valuable services he received the thanks of the
Portuguese Government. We wooded up at this place with African ebony
or black wood, and lignum vitae; the latter tree attains an immense
size, sometimes as much as four feet in diameter; our engineer,
knowing what ebony and lignum vitae cost at home, said it made his
heart sore to burn wood so valuable. Though botanically different,
they are extremely alike; the black wood as grown in some districts
is superior, and the lignum vitae inferior in quality, to these
timbers brought from other countries. Caoutchouc, or India-rubber,
is found in abundance inland from Shupanga-house, and calumba-root is
plentiful in the district; indigo, in quantities, propagates itself
close to the banks of the Aver, and was probably at some time
cultivated, for manufactured indigo was once exported. The India-
rubber is made into balls for a game resembling "fives," and calumba-
root is said to be used as a mordant for certain colours, but not as
a dye itself.
We started for Tette on the 17th August, 1858; the navigation was
rather difficult, the Zambesi from Shupanga to Senna being wide and
full of islands; our black pilot, John Scisssors, a serf, sometimes
took the wrong channel and ran us aground. Nothing abashed, he would
exclaim in an aggrieved tone, "This is not the path, it is back
yonder." "Then why didn't you go yonder at first?" growled out our
Kroomen, who had the work of getting the vessel off. When they spoke
roughly to poor Scissors, the weak cringing slave-spirit came forth
in, "Those men scold me so, I am ready to run away." This mode of
finishing up an engagement is not at all uncommon on the Zambesi;
several cases occurred, when we were on the river, of hired crews
decamping with most of the goods in their charge. If the trader
cannot redress his own wrongs, he has to endure them. The Landeens
will not surrender a fugitive slave, even to his master. One
belonging to Mr. Azevedo fled, and was, as a great favour only,
returned after a present of much more than his value.
We landed to wood at Shamoara, just below the confluence of the
Shire. Its quartz hills are covered with trees and gigantic grasses;
the buaze, a small forest-tree, grows abundantly; it is a species of
polygala; its beautiful clusters of sweet-scented pinkish flowers
perfume the air with a rich fragrance; its seeds produce a fine
drying oil, and the bark of the smaller branches yields a fibre finer
and stronger than flax; with which the natives make their nets for
fishing. Bonga, the brother of the rebel Mariano, and now at the
head of the revolted natives, with some of his principal men came to
see us, and were perfectly friendly, though told of our having
carried the sick Governor across to Shupanga, and of our having cured
him of fever. On our acquainting Bonga with the object of the
expedition, he remarked that we should suffer no hindrance from his
people in our good work. He sent us a present of rice, two sheep,
and a quantity of firewood. He never tried to make any use of us in
the strife; the other side showed less confidence, by carefully
cross-questioning our pilot whether we had sold any powder to the
enemy. We managed, however, to keep on good terms with both rebels
and Portuguese.
Senna is built on a low plain, on the right bank of the Zambesi, with
some pretty detached hills in the background; it is surrounded by a
stockade of living trees to protect its inhabitants from their
troublesome and rebellious neighbours. It contains a few large
houses, some ruins of others, and a weather-beaten cross, where once
stood a church; a mound shows the site of an ancient monastery, and a
mud fort by the river is so dilapidated, that cows were grazing
peacefully over its prostrate walls.
The few Senna merchants, having little or no trade in the village,
send parties of trusted slaves into the interior to hunt for and
purchase ivory. It is a dull place, and very conducive to sleep.
One is sure to take fever in Senna on the second day, if by chance
one escapes it on the first day of a sojourn there; but no place is
entirely bad. Senna has one redeeming feature: it is the native
village of the large-hearted and hospitable Senhor H. A. Ferrao. The
benevolence of this gentleman is unbounded. The poor black stranger
passing through the town goes to him almost as a matter of course for
food, and is never sent away hungry. In times of famine the starving
natives are fed by his generosity; hundreds of his own people he
never sees except on these occasions; and the only benefit derived
from being their master is, that they lean on him as a patriarchal
chief, and he has the satisfaction of settling their differences, and
of saving their lives in seasons of drought and scarcity.
Senhor Ferrao received us with his usual kindness, and gave us a
bountiful breakfast. During the day the principal men of the place
called, and were unanimously of opinion that the free natives would
willingly cultivate large quantities of cotton, could they find
purchasers. They had in former times exported largely both cotton
and cloth to Manica and even to Brazil. "On their own soil," they
declared, "the natives are willing to labour and trade, provided only
they can do so to advantage: when it is for their interest, blacks
work very hard." We often remarked subsequently that this was the
opinion of men of energy; and that all settlers of activity,
enterprise, and sober habits had become rich, while those who were
much addicted to lying on their backs smoking, invariably complained
of the laziness of the negroes, and were poor, proud, and despicable.
Beyond Pita lies the little island Nyamotobsi, where we met a small
fugitive tribe of hippopotamus hunters, who had been driven by war
from their own island in front. All were busy at work; some were
making gigantic baskets for grain, the men plaiting from the inside.
With the civility so common among them the chief ordered a mat to be
spread for us under a shed, and then showed us the weapon with which
they kill the hippopotamus; it is a short iron harpoon inserted in
the end of a long pole, but being intended to unship, it is made fast
to a strong cord of milola, or hibiscus, bark, which is wound closely
round the entire length of the shaft, and secured at its opposite
end. Two men in a swift canoe steal quietly down on the sleeping
animal. The bowman dashes the harpoon into the unconscious victim,
while the quick steersman sweeps the light craft back with his broad
paddle; the force of the blow separates the harpoon from its corded
handle, which, appearing on the surface, sometimes with an inflated
bladder attached, guides the hunters to where the wounded beast hides
below until they despatch it.
These hippopotamus hunters form a separate people, called Akombwi, or
Mapodzo, and rarely--the women it is said never--intermarry with any
other tribe. The reason for their keeping aloof from certain of the
natives on the Zambesi is obvious enough, some having as great an
abhorrence of hippopotamus meat as Mahomedans have of swine's flesh.
Our pilot, Scissors, was one of this class; he would not even cook
his food in a pot which had contained hippopotamus meat, preferring
to go hungry till he could find another; and yet he traded eagerly in
the animal's tusks, and ate with great relish the flesh of the foul-
feeding marabout. These hunters go out frequently on long
expeditions, taking in their canoes their wives and children,
cooking-pots, and sleeping-mats. When they reach a good game
district, they erect temporary huts on the bank, and there dry the
meat they have killed. They are rather a comely-looking race, with
very black smooth skins, and never disfigure themselves with the
frightful ornaments of some of the other tribes. The chief declined
to sell a harpoon, because they could not now get the milola bark
from the coast on account of Mariano's war. He expressed some doubts
about our being children of the same Almighty Father, remarking that
"they could not become white, let them wash ever so much." We made
him a present of a bit of cloth, and he very generously gave us in
return some fine fresh fish and Indian corn.
The heat of the weather steadily increases during this month
(August), and foggy mornings are now rare. A strong breeze ending in
a gale blows up stream every night. It came in the afternoon a few
weeks ago, then later, and at present its arrival is near midnight;
it makes our frail cabin-doors fly open before it, but continues only
for a short time, and is succeeded by a dead calm. Game becomes more
abundant; near our wooding-places we see herds of zebras, both
Burchell's and the mountain variety, pallahs (Antelope melampus),
waterbuck, and wild hogs, with the spoor of buffaloes and elephants.
Shiramba Dembe, on the right bank, is deserted; a few old iron guns
show where a rebel stockade once stood; near the river above this,
stands a magnificent Baobab hollowed out into a good-sized hut, with
bark inside as well as without. The old oaks in Sherwood Forest,
when hollow, have the inside dead or rotten; but the Baobab, though
stripped of its bark outside, and hollowed to a cavity inside, has
the power of exuding new bark from its substance to both the outer
and inner surfaces; so, a hut made like that in the oak called the
"Forest Queen," in Sherwood, would soon all be lined with bark.
The portions of the river called Shigogo and Shipanga are bordered by
a low level expanse of marshy country, with occasional clumps of
palm-trees and a few thorny acacias. The river itself spreads out to
a width of from three to four miles, with many islands, among which
it is difficult to navigate, except when the river is in flood. In
front, a range of high hills from the north-east crosses and
compresses it into a deep narrow channel, called the Lupata Gorge.
The Portuguese thought the steamer would not stem the current here;
but as it was not more than about three knots, and as there was a
strong breeze in our favour, steam and sails got her through with
ease. Heavy-laden canoes take two days to go up this pass. A
current sweeps round the little rocky promontories Chifura and
Kangomba, forming whirlpools and eddies dangerous for the clumsy
craft, which are dragged past with long ropes.
The paddlers place meal on these rocks as an offering to the
turbulent deities, which they believe preside over spots fatal to
many a large canoe. We were slily told that native Portuguese take
off their hats to these river gods, and pass in solemn silence; when
safely beyond the promontories, they fire muskets, and, as we ought
to do, give the canoe-men grog. From the spoor of buffaloes and
elephants it appears that these animals frequent Lupata in
considerable numbers, and--we have often observed the association--
the tsetse fly is common. A horse for the Governor of Tette was sent
in a canoe from Quillimane; and, lest it should be wrecked on the
Chifura and Kangomba rocks, it was put on shore and sent in the
daytime through the pass. It was of course bitten by the tsetse, and
died soon after; it was thought that the AIR of Tette had not agreed
with it. The currents above Lupata are stronger than those below;
the country becomes more picturesque and hilly, and there is a larger
population.
The ship anchored in the stream, off Tette, on the 8th September,
1858, and Dr. Livingstone went ashore in the boat. No sooner did the
Makololo recognize him, than they rushed to the water's edge, and
manifested great joy at seeing him again. Some were hastening to
embrace him, but others cried out, "Don't touch him, you will spoil
his new clothes." The five headmen came on board and listened in
quiet sadness to the story of poor Sekwebu, who died at the Mauritius
on his way to England. "Men die in any country," they observed, and
then told us that thirty of their own number had died of smallpox,
having been bewitched by the people of Tette, who envied them
because, during the first year, none of their party had died. Six of
their young men, becoming tired of cutting firewood for a meagre
pittance, proposed to go and dance for gain before some of the
neighbouring chiefs. "Don't go," said the others, "we don't know the
people of this country;" but the young men set out and visited an
independent half-caste chief, a few miles to the north, named
Chisaka, who some years ago burned all the Portuguese villas on the
north bank of the river; afterwards the young men went to Bonga, son
of another half-caste chief, who bade defiance to the Tette
authorities, and had a stockade at the confluence of the Zambesi and
Luenya, a few miles below that village. Asking the Makololo whence
they came, Bonga rejoined, "Why do you come from my enemy to me? You
have brought witchcraft medicine to kill me." In vain they protested
that they did not belong to the country; they were strangers, and had
come from afar with an Englishman. The superstitious savage put them
all to death. "We do not grieve," said their companions, "for the
thirty victims of the smallpox, who were taken away by Morimo (God);
but our hearts are sore for the six youths who were murdered by
Bonga." Any hope of obtaining justice on the murderer was out of the
question. Bonga once caught a captain of the Portuguese army, and
forced him to perform the menial labour of pounding maize in a wooden
mortar. No punishment followed on this outrage. The Government of
Lisbon has since given Bonga the honorary title of Captain, by way of
coaxing him to own their authority; but he still holds his stockade.
Tette stands on a succession of low sandstone ridges on the right
bank of the Zambesi, which is here nearly a thousand yards wide (960
yards). Shallow ravines, running parallel with the river, form the
streets, the houses being built on the ridges. The whole surface of
the streets, except narrow footpaths, were overrun with self-sown
indigo, and tons of it might have been collected. In fact indigo,
senna, and stramonium, with a species of cassia, form the weeds of
the place, which are annually hoed off and burned. A wall of stone
and mud surrounds the village, and the native population live in huts
outside. The fort and the church, near the river, are the
strongholds; the natives having a salutary dread of the guns of the
one, and a superstitious fear of the unknown power of the other. The
number of white inhabitants is small, and rather select, many of them
having been considerately sent out of Portugal "for their country's
good." The military element preponderates in society; the convict
and "incorrigible" class of soldiers, receiving very little pay,
depend in great measure on the produce of the gardens of their black
wives; the moral condition of the resulting population may be
imagined.
Droughts are of frequent occurrence at Tette, and the crops suffer
severely. This may arise partly from the position of the town
between the ranges of hills north and south, which appear to have a
strong attraction for the rain-clouds. It is often seen to rain on
these hills when not a drop falls at Tette. Our first season was one
of drought. Thrice had the women planted their gardens in vain, the
seed, after just vegetating, was killed by the intense dry heat. A
fourth planting shared the same hard fate, and then some of the
knowing ones discovered the cause of the clouds being frightened
away: our unlucky rain-gauge in the garden. We got a bad name
through that same rain-gauge, and were regarded by many as a species
of evil omen. The Makololo in turn blamed the people of Tette for
drought: "A number of witches live here, who won't let it rain."
Africans in general are sufficiently superstitious, but those of
Tette are in this particular pre-eminent above their fellows. Coming
from many different tribes, all the rays of the separate
superstitions converge into a focus at Tette, and burn out common
sense from the minds of the mixed breed. They believe that many evil
spirits live in the air, the earth, and the water. These invisible
malicious beings are thought to inflict much suffering on the human
race; but, as they have a weakness for beer and a craving for food,
they may be propitiated from time to time by offerings of meat and
drink. The serpent is an object of worship, and hideous little
images are hung in the huts of the sick and dying. The
uncontaminated Africans believe that Morungo, the Great Spirit who
formed all things, lives above the stars; but they never pray to him,
and know nothing of their relation to him, or of his interest in
them. The spirits of their departed ancestors are all good,
according to their ideas, and on special occasions aid them in their
enterprises. When a man has his hair cut, he is careful to burn it,
or bury it secretly, lest, falling into the hands of one who has an
evil eye, or is a witch, it should be used as a charm to afflict him
with headache. They believe, too, that they will live after the
death of the body, but do not know anything of the state of the
Barimo (gods, or departed spirits).
The mango-tree grows luxuriantly above Lupata, and furnishes a
grateful shade. Its delicious fruit is superior to that on the
coast. For weeks the natives who have charge of the mangoes live
entirely on the fruit, and, as some trees bear in November and some
in March, while the main crop comes between, fruit in abundance may
easily be obtained during four months of the year; but no native can
be induced to plant a mango. A wide-spread superstition has become
riveted in the native mind, that if any one plants this tree he will
soon die. The Makololo, like other natives, were very fond of the
fruit; but when told to take up some mango-stones, on their return,
and plant them in their own country--they too having become deeply
imbued with the belief that it was a suicidal act to do so--replied
"they did not wish to die too soon." There is also a superstition
even among the native Portuguese of Tette, that if a man plants
coffee he will never afterwards be happy: they drink it, however,
and seem the happier for it.
The Portuguese of Tette have many slaves, with all the usual vices of
their class, as theft, lying, and impurity. As a general rule the
real Portuguese are tolerably humane masters and rarely treat a slave
cruelly; this may be due as much to natural kindness of heart as to a
fear of losing the slaves by their running away. When they purchase
an adult slave they buy at the same time, if possible, all his
relations along with him. They thus contrive to secure him to his
new home by domestic ties. Running away then would be to forsake all
who hold a place in his heart, for the mere chance of acquiring a
freedom, which would probably be forfeited on his entrance into the
first native village, for the chief might, without compunction, again
sell him into slavery.
A rather singular case of voluntary slavery came to our knowledge: a
free black, an intelligent active young fellow, called Chibanti, who
had been our pilot on the river, told us that he had sold himself
into slavery. On asking why he had done this, he replied that he was
all alone in the world, had neither father nor mother, nor any one
else to give him water when sick, or food when hungry; so he sold
himself to Major Sicard, a notoriously kind master, whose slaves had
little to do, and plenty to eat. "And how much did you get for
yourself?" we asked. "Three thirty-yard pieces of cotton cloth," he
replied; "and I forthwith bought a man, a woman, and child, who cost
me two of the pieces, and I had one piece left." This, at all
events, showed a cool and calculating spirit; he afterwards bought
more slaves, and in two years owned a sufficient number to man one of
the large canoes. His master subsequently employed him in carrying
ivory to Quillimane, and gave him cloth to hire mariners for the
voyage; he took his own slaves, of course, and thus drove a thriving
business; and was fully convinced that he had made a good speculation
by the sale of himself, for had he been sick his master must have
supported him. Occasionally some of the free blacks become slaves
voluntarily by going through the simple but significant ceremony of
breaking a spear in the presence of their future master. A
Portuguese officer, since dead, persuaded one of the Makololo to
remain in Tette, instead of returning to his own country, and tried
also to induce him to break a spear before him, and thus acknowledge
himself his slave, but the man was too shrewd for this; he was a
great elephant doctor, who accompanied the hunters, told them when to
attack the huge beast, and gave them medicine to ensure success.
Unlike the real Portuguese, many of the half-castes are merciless
slave-holders; their brutal treatment of the wretched slaves is
notorious. What a humane native of Portugal once said of them is
appropriate if not true: "God made white men, and God made black
men, but the devil made half-castes."
The officers and merchants send parties of slaves under faithful
headmen to hunt elephants and to trade in ivory, providing them with
a certain quantity of cloth, beads, etc., and requiring so much ivory
in return. These slaves think that they have made a good thing of
it, when they kill an elephant near a village, as the natives give
them beer and meal in exchange for some of the elephant's meat, and
over every tusk that is brought there is expended a vast amount of
time, talk, and beer. Most of the Africans are natural-born traders,
they love trade more for the sake of trading than for what they make
by it. An intelligent gentleman of Tette told us that native traders
often come to him with a tusk for sale, consider the price he offers,
demand more, talk over it, retire to consult about it, and at length
go away without selling it; next day they try another merchant, talk,
consider, get puzzled and go off as on the previous day, and continue
this course daily until they have perhaps seen every merchant in the
village, and then at last end by selling the precious tusk to some
one for even less than the first merchant had offered. Their love of
dawdling in the transaction arises from the self-importance conferred
on them by their being the object of the wheedling and coaxing of
eager merchants, a feeling to which even the love of gain is
subordinate.
The native medical profession is reasonably well represented. In
addition to the regular practitioners, who are a really useful class,
and know something of their profession, and the nature and power of
certain medicines, there are others who devote their talents to some
speciality. The elephant doctor prepares a medicine which is
considered indispensable to the hunters when attacking that noble and
sagacious beast; no hunter is willing to venture out before investing
in this precious nostrum. The crocodile doctor sells a charm which
is believed to possess the singular virtue of protecting its owner
from crocodiles. Unwittingly we offended the crocodile school of
medicine while at Tette, by shooting one of these huge reptiles as it
lay basking in the sun on a sandbank; the doctors came to the
Makololo in wrath, clamouring to know why the white man had shot
their crocodile.
A shark's hook was baited one evening with a dog, of which the
crocodile is said to be particularly fond; but the doctors removed
the bait, on the principle that the more crocodiles the more demand
for medicine, or perhaps because they preferred to eat the dog
themselves. Many of the natives of this quarter are known, as in the
South Seas, to eat the dog without paying any attention to its
feeding. The dice doctor or diviner is an important member of the
community, being consulted by Portuguese and natives alike. Part of
his business is that of a detective, it being his duty to discover
thieves. When goods are stolen, he goes and looks at the place,
casts his dice, and waits a few days, and then, for a consideration,
tells who is the thief: he is generally correct, for he trusts not
to his dice alone; he has confidential agents all over the village,
by whose inquiries and information he is enabled to detect the
culprit. Since the introduction of muskets, gun doctors have sprung
up, and they sell the medicine which professes to make good marksmen;
others are rain doctors, etc., etc. The various schools deal in
little charms, which are hung round the purchaser's neck to avert
evil: some of them contain the medicine, others increase its power.
Indigo, about three or four feet high, grows in great luxuriance in
the streets of Tette, and so does the senna plant. The leaves are
undistinguishable from those imported in England. A small amount of
first-rate cotton is cultivated by the native population for the
manufacture of a coarse cloth. A neighbouring tribe raises the
sugar-cane, and makes a little sugar; but they use most primitive
wooden rollers, and having no skill in mixing lime with the extracted
juice, the product is of course of very inferior quality. Plenty of
magnetic iron ore is found near Tette, and coal also to any amount; a
single cliff-seam measuring twenty-five feet in thickness. It was
found to burn well in the steamer on the first trial. Gold is washed
for in the beds of rivers, within a couple of days of Tette. The
natives are fully aware of its value, but seldom search for it, and
never dig deeper than four or five feet. They dread lest the falling
in of the sand of the river's bed should bury them. In former times,
when traders went with hundreds of slaves to the washings, the
produce was considerable. It is now insignificant. The gold-
producing lands have always been in the hands of independent tribes.
Deep cuttings near the sources of the gold-yielding streams seem
never to have been tried here, as in California and Australia, nor
has any machinery been used save common wooden basins for washing.
CHAPTER II.
Kebrabasa Rapids--Tette--African fever--Exploration of the Shire--
Discovery of Lake Shirwa.
Our curiosity had been so much excited by the reports we had heard of
the Kebrabasa rapids, that we resolved to make a short examination of
them, and seized the opportunity of the Zambesi being unusually low,
to endeavour to ascertain their character while uncovered by the
water. We reached them on the 9th of November. The country between
Tette and Panda Mokua, where navigation ends, is well wooded and
hilly on both banks. Panda Mokua is a hill two miles below the
rapids, capped with dolomite containing copper ore.
Conspicuous among the trees, for its gigantic size, and bark coloured
exactly like Egyptian syenite, is the burly Baobab. It often makes
the other trees of the forest look like mere bushes in comparison. A
hollow one, already mentioned, is 74 feet in circumference, another
was 84, and some have been found on the West Coast which measure 100
feet. The lofty range of Kebrabasa, consisting chiefly of conical
hills, covered with scraggy trees, crosses the Zambesi, and confines
it within a narrow, rough, and rocky dell of about a quarter of a
mile in breadth; over this, which may be called the flood-bed of the
river, large masses of rock are huddled in indescribable confusion.
The drawing, for the use of which, and of others, our thanks are due
to Lord Russell, conveys but a faint idea of the scene, inasmuch as
the hills which confine the river do not appear in the sketch. The
chief rock is syenite, some portions of which have a beautiful blue
tinge like lapis lazuli diffused through them; others are grey.
Blocks of granite also abound, of a pinkish tinge; and these with
metamorphic rocks, contorted, twisted, and thrown into every
conceivable position, afford a picture of dislocation or
unconformability which would gladden a geological lecturer's heart;
but at high flood this rough channel is all smoothed over, and it
then conforms well with the river below it, which is half a mile
wide. In the dry season the stream runs at the bottom of a narrow
and deep groove, whose sides are polished and fluted by the boiling
action of the water in flood, like the rims of ancient Eastern wells
by the draw-ropes. The breadth of the groove is often not more than
from forty to sixty yards, and it has some sharp turnings, double
channels, and little cataracts in it. As we steamed up, the masts of
the "Ma Robert," though some thirty feet high, did not reach the
level of the flood-channel above, and the man in the chains sung out,
"No bottom at ten fathoms." Huge pot-holes, as large as draw-wells,
had been worn in the sides, and were so deep that in some instances,
when protected from the sun by overhanging boulders, the water in
them was quite cool. Some of these holes had been worn right
through, and only the side next the rock remained; while the sides of
the groove of the flood-channel were polished as smooth as if they
had gone through the granite-mills of Aberdeen. The pressure of the
water must be enormous to produce this polish. It had wedged round
pebbles into chinks and crannies of the rocks so firmly that, though
they looked quite loose, they could not be moved except with a
hammer. The mighty power of the water here seen gave us an idea of
what is going on in thousands of cataracts in the world. All the
information we had been able to obtain from our Portuguese friends
amounted to this, that some three or four detached rocks jutted out
of the river in Kebrabasa, which, though dangerous to the cumbersome
native canoes, could be easily passed by a steamer, and that if one
or two of these obstructions were blasted away with gunpowder, no
difficulty would hereafter be experienced. After we had painfully
explored seven or eight miles of the rapid, we returned to the vessel
satisfied that much greater labour was requisite for the mere
examination of the cataracts than our friends supposed necessary to
remove them; we therefore went down the river for fresh supplies, and
made preparation for a more serious survey of this region.
The steamer having returned from the bar, we set out on the 22nd of
November to examine the rapids of Kebrabasa. We reached the foot of
the hills again, late in the afternoon of the 24th, and anchored in
the stream. Canoe-men never sleep on the river, but always spend the
night on shore. The natives on the right bank, in the country called
Shidima, who are Banyai, and even at this short distance from Tette,
independent, and accustomed to lord it over Portuguese traders,
wondered what could be our object in remaining afloat, and were
naturally suspicious at our departing from the universal custom.
They hailed us from the bank in the evening with "Why don't you come
and sleep onshore like other people?"
The answer they received from our Makololo, who now felt as
independent as the Banyai, was, "We are held to the bottom with iron;
you may see we are not like your Bazungu."
This hint, a little amplified, saved us from the usual exactions. It
is pleasant to give a present, but that pleasure the Banyai usually
deny to strangers by making it a fine, and demanding it in such a
supercilious way, that only a sorely cowed trader could bear it.
They often refuse to touch what is offered--throw it down and leave
it--sneer at the trader's slaves, and refuse a passage until the
tribute is raised to the utmost extent of his means.
Leaving the steamer next morning, we proceeded on foot, accompanied
by a native Portuguese and his men and a dozen Makololo, who carried
our baggage. The morning was pleasant, the hills on our right
furnished for a time a delightful shade; but before long the path
grew frightfully rough, and the hills no longer shielded us from the
blazing sun. Scarcely a vestige of a track was now visible; and,
indeed, had not our guide assured us to the contrary, we should have
been innocent of even the suspicion of a way along the patches of
soft yielding sand, and on the great rocks over which we so painfully
clambered. These rocks have a singular appearance, from being
dislocated and twisted in every direction, and covered with a thin
black glaze, as if highly polished and coated with lamp-black
varnish. This seems to have been deposited while the river was in
flood, for it covers only those rocks which lie between the highest
water-mark and a line about four feet above the lowest. Travellers
who have visited the rapids of the Orinoco and the Congo say that the
rocks there have a similar appearance, and it is attributed to some
deposit from the water, formed only when the current is strong. This
may account for it in part here, as it prevails only where the narrow
river is confined between masses of rock, backed by high hills, and
where the current in floods is known to be the strongest; and it does
not exist where the rocks are only on one side, with a sandy beach
opposite, and a broad expanse of river between. The hot rocks burnt
the thick soles of our men's feet, and sorely fatigued ourselves.
Our first day's march did not exceed four miles in a straight line,
and that we found more than enough to be pleasant.
The state of insecurity in which the Badema tribe live is indicated
by the habit of hiding their provisions in the hills, and keeping
only a small quantity in their huts; they strip a particular species
of tree of its bitter bark, to which both mice and monkeys are known
to have an antipathy, and, turning the bark inside out, sew it into
cylindrical vessels for their grain, and bury them in holes and in
crags on the wooded hill-sides. By this means, should a marauding
party plunder their huts, they save a supply of corn. They "could
give us no information, and they had no food; Chisaka's men had
robbed them a few weeks before."
"Never mind," said our native Portuguese, "they will sell you plenty
when you return, they are afraid of you now, as yet they do not know
who you are." We slept under trees in the open air, and suffered no
inconvenience from either mosquitoes or dew: and no prowling wild
beast troubled us; though one evening, while we were here, a native
sitting with some others on the opposite bank was killed by a
leopard.
One of the Tette slaves, who wished to be considered a great
traveller, gave us, as we sat by our evening fire, an interesting
account of a strange race of men whom he had seen in the interior;
they were only three feet high, and had horns growing out of their
heads; they lived in a large town and had plenty of food. The
Makololo pooh-poohed this story, and roundly told the narrator that
he was telling a downright lie. "WE come from the interior," cried
out a tall fellow, measuring some six feet four, "are WE dwarfs? have
WE horns on our heads?" and thus they laughed the fellow to scorn.
But he still stoutly maintained that he had seen these little people,
and had actually been in their town; thus making himself the hero of
the traditional story, which before and since the time of Herodotus
has, with curious persistency, clung to the native mind. The mere
fact that such absurd notions are permanent, even in the entire
absence of literature, invests the religious ideas of these people
also with importance, as fragments of the wreck of the primitive
faith floating down the stream of time.
We waded across the rapid Luia, which took us up to the waist, and
was about forty yards wide. The water was discoloured at the time,
and we were not without apprehension that a crocodile might chance to
fancy a white man for dinner. Next day one of the men crawled over
the black rocks to within ten yards of a sleeping hippopotamus, and
shot him through the brain. The weather being warm, the body floated
in a few hours, and some of us had our first trial of hippopotamus
flesh. It is a cross-grained meat, something between pork and beef,-
-pretty good food when one is hungry and can get nothing better.
When we reached the foot of the mountain named Chipereziwa, whose
perpendicular rocky sides are clothed with many-coloured lichens, our
Portuguese companion informed us there were no more obstructions to
navigation, the river being all smooth above; he had hunted there and
knew it well. Supposing that the object of our trip was accomplished
we turned back; but two natives, who came to our camp at night,
assured us that a cataract, called Morumbwa, did still exist in
front. Drs. Livingstone and Kirk then decided to go forward with
three Makololo and settle the question for themselves. It was as
tough a bit of travel as they ever had in Africa, and after some
painful marching the Badema guides refused to go further; "the
Banyai," they said, "would be angry if they showed white men the
country; and there was besides no practicable approach to the spot,
neither elephant, nor hippopotamus, nor even a crocodile could reach
the cataract." The slopes of the mountains on each side of the
river, now not 300 yards wide, and without the flattish flood-channel
and groove, were more than 3000 feet from the sky-line down, and were
covered either with dense thornbush or huge black boulders; this deep
trough-like shape caused the sun's rays to converge as into a focus,
making the surface so hot that the soles of the feet of the Makololo
became blistered. Around, and up and down, the party clambered among
these heated blocks, at a pace not exceeding a mile an hour; the
strain upon the muscles in jumping from crag to boulder, and
wriggling round projections, took an enormous deal out of them, and
they were often glad to cower in the shadow formed by one rock
overhanging and resting on another; the shelter induced the
peculiarly strong and overpowering inclination to sleep, which too
much sun sometimes causes. This sleep is curative of what may be
incipient sunstroke: in its first gentle touches, it caused the
dream to flit over the boiling brain, that they had become lunatics
and had been sworn in as members of the Alpine club; and then it
became so heavy that it made them feel as if a portion of existence
had been cut out from their lives. The sun is excessively hot, and
feels sharp in Africa; but, probably from the greater dryness of the
atmosphere, we never heard of a single case of sunstroke, so common
in India. The Makololo told Dr. Livingstone they "always thought he
had a heart, but now they believed he had none," and tried to
persuade Dr. Kirk to return, on the ground that it must be evident
that, in attempting to go where no living foot could tread, his
leader had given unmistakeable signs of having gone mad. All their
efforts of persuasion, however, were lost upon Dr. Kirk, as he had
not yet learned their language, and his leader, knowing his companion
to be equally anxious with himself to solve the problem of the
navigableness of Kebrabasa, was not at pains to enlighten him. At
one part a bare mountain spur barred the way, and had to be
surmounted by a perilous and circuitous route, along which the crags
were so hot that it was scarcely possible for the hand to hold on
long enough to ensure safety in the passage; and had the foremost of
the party lost his hold, he would have hurled all behind him into the
river at the foot of the promontory; yet in this wild hot region, as
they descended again to the river, they met a fisherman casting his
hand-net into the boiling eddies, and he pointed out the cataract of
Morumbwa; within an hour they were trying to measure it from an
overhanging rock, at a height of about one hundred feet. When you
stand facing the cataract, on the north bank, you see that it is
situated in a sudden bend of the river, which is flowing in a short
curve; the river above it is jammed between two mountains in a
channel with perpendicular sides, and less than fifty yards wide; one
or two masses of rock jut out, and then there is a sloping fall of
perhaps twenty feet in a distance of thirty yards. It would stop all
navigation, except during the highest floods; the rocks showed that
the water then rises upwards of eighty feet perpendicularly.
Still keeping the position facing the cataract, on its right side
rises Mount Morumbwa from 2000 to 3000 feet high, which gives the
name to the spot. On the left of the cataract stands a noticeable
mountain which may be called onion-shaped, for it is partly conical
and a large concave flake has peeled off, as granite often does, and
left a broad, smooth convex face as if it were an enormous bulb.
These two mountains extend their bases northwards about half a mile,
and the river in that distance, still very narrow, is smooth, with a
few detached rocks standing out from its bed. They climbed as high
up the base of Mount Morumbwa, which touches the cataract, as they
required. The rocks were all water-worn and smooth, with huge
potholes, even at 100 feet above low water. When at a later period
they climbed up the north-western base of this same mountain, the
familiar face of the onion-shaped one opposite was at once
recognised; one point of view on the talus of Mount Morumbwa was not
more than 700 or 800 yards distant from the other, and they then
completed the survey of Kebrabasa from end to end.
They did not attempt to return by the way they came, but scaled the
slope of the mountain on the north. It took them three hours' hard
labour in cutting their way up through the dense thornbush which
covered the ascent. The face of the slope was often about an angle
of 70 degrees, yet their guide Shokumbenla, whose hard, horny soles,
resembling those of elephants, showed that he was accustomed to this
rough and hot work, carried a pot of water for them nearly all the
way up. They slept that night at a well in a tufaceous rock on the
N.W. of Chipereziwa, and never was sleep more sweet.
A band of native musicians came to our camp one evening, on our own
way down, and treated us with their wild and not unpleasant music on
the Marimba, an instrument formed of bars of hard wood of varying
breadth and thickness, laid on different-sized hollow calabashes, and
tuned to give the notes; a few pieces of cloth pleased them, and they
passed on.
The rainy season of Tette differs a little from that of some of the
other intertropical regions; the quantity of rain-fall being
considerably less. It begins in November and ends in April. During
our first season in that place, only a little over nineteen inches of
rain fell. In an average year, and when the crops are good, the fall
amounts to about thirty-five inches. On many days it does not rain
at all, and rarely is it wet all day; some days have merely a passing
shower, preceded and followed by hot sunshine; occasionally an
interval of a week, or even a fortnight, passes without a drop of
rain, and then the crops suffer from the sun. These partial droughts
happen in December and January. The heat appears to increase to a
certain point in the different latitudes so as to necessitate a
change, by some law similar to that which regulates the intense cold
in other countries. After several days of progressive heat here, on
the hottest of which the thermometer probably reaches 103 degrees in
the shade, a break occurs in the weather, and a thunderstorm cools
the air for a time. At Kuruman, when the thermometer stood above 84
degrees, rain might be expected; at Kolobeng, the point at which we
looked for a storm was 96 degrees. The Zambesi is in flood twice in
the course of the year; the first flood, a partial one, attains its
greatest height about the end of December or beginning of January;
the second, and greatest, occurs after the river inundates the
interior, in a manner similar to the overflow of the Nile, this rise
not taking place at Tette until March. The Portuguese say that the
greatest height which the March floods attain is thirty feet at
Tette, and this happens only about every fourth year; their
observations, however, have never been very accurate on anything but
ivory, and they have in this case trusted to memory alone. The only
fluviometer at Tette, or anywhere else on the river, was set up at
our suggestion; and the first flood was at its greatest height of
thirteen feet six inches on the 17th January, 1859, and then
gradually fell a few feet, until succeeded by the greater flood of
March. The river rises suddenly, the water is highly discoloured and
impure, and there is a four-knot current in many places; but in a day
or two after the first rush of waters is passed, the current becomes
more equally spread over the whole bed of the river, and resumes its
usual rate in the channel, although continuing in flood. The Zambesi
water at other times is almost chemically pure, and the photographer
would find that it is nearly as good as distilled water for the
nitrate of silver bath.
A third visit to Kebrabasa was made for the purpose of ascertaining
whether it might be navigable when the Zambesi was in flood, the
chief point of interest being of course Morumbwa; it was found that
the rapids observed in our first trip had disappeared, and that while
they were smoothed over, in a few places the current had increased in
strength. As the river fell rapidly while we were on the journey,
the cataract of Morumbwa did not differ materially from what it was
when discovered. Some fishermen assured us that it was not visible
when the river was at its fullest, and that the current was then not
very strong. On this occasion we travelled on the right bank, and
found it, with the additional inconvenience of rain, as rough and
fatiguing as the left had been. Our progress was impeded by the tall
wet grass and dripping boughs, and consequent fever. During the
earlier part of the journey we came upon a few deserted hamlets only;
but at last in a pleasant valley we met some of the people of the
country, who were miserably poor and hungry. The women were
gathering wild fruits in the woods. A young man having consented for
two yards of cotton cloth to show us a short path to the cataract led
us up a steep hill to a village perched on the edge of one of its
precipices; a thunderstorm coming on at the time, the headman invited
us to take shelter in a hut until it had passed. Our guide having
informed him of what he knew and conceived to be our object, was
favoured in return with a long reply in well-sounding blank verse; at
the end of every line the guide, who listened with deep attention,
responded with a grunt, which soon became so ludicrous that our men
burst into a loud laugh. Neither the poet nor the responsive guide
took the slightest notice of their rudeness, but kept on as
energetically as ever to the end. The speech, or more probably our
bad manners, made some impression on our guide, for he declined,
although offered double pay, to go any further.
A great deal of fever comes in with March and April; in March, if
considerable intervals take place between the rainy days, and in
April always, for then large surfaces of mud and decaying vegetation
are exposed to the hot sun. In general an attack does not continue
long, but it pulls one down quickly; though when the fever is checked
the strength is as quickly restored. It had long been observed that
those who were stationed for any length of time in one spot, and
lived sedentary lives, suffered more from fever than others who moved
about and had both mind and body occupied; but we could not all go in
the small vessel when she made her trips, during which the change of
place and scenery proved so conducive to health; and some of us were
obliged to remain in charge of the expedition's property, making
occasional branch trips to examine objects of interest in the
vicinity. Whatever may be the cause of the fever, we observed that
all were often affected at the same time, as if from malaria. This
was particularly the case during a north wind: it was at first
commonly believed that a daily dose of quinine would prevent the
attack. For a number of months all our men, except two, took quinine
regularly every morning. The fever some times attacked the believers
in quinine, while the unbelievers in its prophylactic powers escaped.
Whether we took it daily, or omitted it altogether for months, made
no difference; the fever was impartial, and seized us on the days of
quinine as regularly and as severely as when it remained undisturbed
in the medicine chest, and we finally abandoned the use of it as a
prophylactic altogether. The best preventive against fever is plenty
of interesting work to do, and abundance of wholesome food to eat.
To a man well housed and clothed, who enjoys these advantages, the
fever at Tette will not prove a more formidable enemy than a common
cold; but let one of these be wanting--let him be indolent, or guilty
of excesses in eating or drinking, or have poor, scanty fare,--and
the fever will probably become a more serious matter. It is of a
milder type at Tette than at Quillimane or on the low sea-coast; and,
as in this part of Africa one is as liable to fever as to colds in
England, it would be advisable for strangers always to hasten from
the coast to the high lands, in order that when the seizure does take
place, it may be of the mildest type. Although quinine was not found
to be a preventive, except possibly in the way of acting as a tonic,
and rendering the system more able to resist the influence of
malaria, it was found invaluable in the cure of the complaint, as
soon as pains in the back, sore bones, headache, yawning, quick and
sometimes intermittent pulse, noticeable pulsations of the jugulars,
with suffused eyes, hot skin, and foul tongue, began. {1}
Very curious are the effects of African fever on certain minds.
Cheerfulness vanishes, and the whole mental horizon is overcast with
black clouds of gloom and sadness. The liveliest joke cannot provoke
even the semblance of a smile. The countenance is grave, the eyes
suffused, and the few utterances are made in the piping voice of a
wailing infant. An irritable temper is often the first symptom of
approaching fever. At such times a man feels very much like a fool,
if he does not act like one. Nothing is right, nothing pleases the
fever-stricken victim. He is peevish, prone to find fault and to
contradict, and think himself insulted, and is exactly what an Irish
naval surgeon before a court-martial defined a drunken man to be: "a
man unfit for society."
Finding that it was impossible to take our steamer of only ten-horse
power through Kebrabasa, and convinced that, in order to force a
passage when the river was in flood, much greater power was required,
due information was forwarded to Her Majesty's Government, and
application made for a more suitable vessel. Our attention was in
the mean time turned to the exploration of the river Shire, a
northern tributary of the Zambesi, which joins it about a hundred
miles from the sea. We could learn nothing satisfactory from the
Portuguese regarding this affluent; no one, they said, had ever been
up it, nor could they tell whence it came. Years ago a Portuguese
expedition is said, however, to have attempted the ascent, but to
have abandoned it on account of the impenetrable duckweed (Pistia
stratiotes.) We could not learn from any record that the Shire had
ever been ascended by Europeans. As far, therefore, as we were
concerned, the exploration was absolutely new. All the Portuguese
believed the Manganja to be brave but bloodthirsty savages; and on
our return we found that soon after our departure a report was widely
spread that our temerity had been followed by fatal results, Dr.
Livingstone having been shot, and Dr. Kirk mortally wounded by
poisoned arrows.
Our first trip to the Shire was in January, 1859. A considerable
quantity of weed floated down the river for the first twenty-five
miles, but not sufficient to interrupt navigation with canoes or with
any other craft. Nearly the whole of this aquatic plant proceeds
from a marsh on the west, and comes into the river a little beyond a
lofty hill called Mount Morambala. Above that there is hardly any.
As we approached the villages, the natives collected in large
numbers, armed with bows and poisoned arrows; and some, dodging
behind trees, were observed taking aim as if on the point of
shooting. All the women had been sent out of the way, and the men
were evidently prepared to resist aggression. At the village of a
chief named Tingane, at least five hundred natives collected and
ordered us to stop. Dr. Livingstone went ashore; and on his
explaining that we were English and had come neither to take slaves
nor to fight, but only to open a path by which our countrymen might
follow to purchase cotton, or whatever else they might have to sell,
except slaves, Tingane became at once quite friendly. The presence
of the steamer, which showed that they had an entirely new people to
deal with, probably contributed to this result; for Tingane was
notorious for being the barrier to all intercourse between the
Portuguese black traders and the natives further inland; none were
allowed to pass him either way. He was an elderly, well-made man,
grey-headed, and over six feet high. Though somewhat excited by our
presence, he readily complied with the request to call his people
together, in order that all might know what our objects were.
In commencing intercourse with any people we almost always referred
to the English detestation of slavery. Most of them already possess
some information respecting the efforts made by the English at sea to
suppress the slave-trade; and our work being to induce them to raise
and sell cotton, instead of capturing and selling their fellow-men,
our errand appears quite natural; and as they all have clear ideas of
their own self-interest, and are keen traders, the reasonableness of
the proposal is at once admitted; and as a belief in a Supreme Being,
the Maker and Ruler of all things, and in the continued existence of
departed spirits, is universal, it becomes quite appropriate to
explain that we possess a Book containing a Revelation of the will of
Him to whom in their natural state they recognise no relationship.
The fact that His Son appeared among men, and left His words in His
Book, always awakens attention; but the great difficulty is to make
them feel that they have any relationship to Him, and that He feels
any interest in them. The numbness of moral perception exhibited, is
often discouraging; but the mode of communication, either by
interpreters, or by the imperfect knowledge of the language, which
not even missionaries of talent can overcome save by the labour of
many years, may, in part, account for the phenomenon. However, the
idea of the Father of all being displeased with His children, for
selling or killing each other, at once gains their ready assent: it
harmonizes so exactly with their own ideas of right and wrong. But,
as in our own case at home, nothing less than the instruction and
example of many years will secure their moral elevation.
The dialect spoken here closely resembles that used at Senna and
Tette. We understood it at first only enough to know whether our
interpreter was saying what we bade him, or was indulging in his own
version. After stating pretty nearly what he was told, he had an
inveterate tendency to wind up with "The Book says you are to grow
cotton, and the English are to come and buy it," or with some joke of
his own, which might have been ludicrous, had it not been seriously
distressing.
In the first ascent of the Shire our attention was chiefly directed
to the river itself. The delight of threading out the meanderings of
upwards of 200 miles of a hitherto unexplored river must be felt to
be appreciated. All the lower part of the river was found to be at
least two fathoms in depth. It became shallower higher up, where
many departing and re-entering branches diminished the volume of
water, but the absence of sandbanks made it easy of navigation. We
had to exercise the greatest care lest anything we did should be
misconstrued by the crowds who watched us. After having made, in a
straight line, one hundred miles, although the windings of the river
had fully doubled the distance, we found further progress with the
steamer arrested, in 15 degrees 55 minutes south, by magnificent
cataracts, which we called, "The Murchison," after one whose name has
already a world-wide fame, and whose generous kindness we can never
repay. The native name of that figured in the woodcut is Mamvira.
It is that at which the progress of the steamer was first stopped.
The angle of descent is much smaller than that of the five cataracts
above it; indeed, so small as compared with them, that after they
were discovered this was not included in the number.
A few days were spent here in the hope that there might be an
opportunity of taking observations for longitude, but it rained most
of the time, or the sky was overcast. It was deemed imprudent to
risk a land journey whilst the natives were so very suspicious as to
have a strong guard on the banks of the river night and day; the
weather also was unfavourable. After sending presents and messages
to two of the chiefs, we returned to Tette. In going down stream our
progress was rapid, as we were aided by the current. The hippopotami
never made a mistake, but got out of our way. The crocodiles, not so
wise, sometimes rushed with great velocity at us, thinking that we
were some huge animal swimming. They kept about a foot from the
surface, but made three well-defined ripples from the feet and body,
which marked their rapid progress; raising the head out of the water
when only a few yards from the expected feast, down they went to the
bottom like a stone, without touching the boat.
In the middle of March of the same year (1859), we started again for
a second trip on the Shire. The natives were now friendly, and
readily sold us rice, fowls, and corn. We entered into amicable
relations with the chief, Chibisa, whose village was about ten miles
below the cataract. He had sent two men on our first visit to invite
us to drink beer; but the steamer was such a terrible apparition to
them, that, after shouting the invitation, they jumped ashore, and
left their canoe to drift down the stream. Chibisa was a remarkably
shrewd man, the very image, save his dark hue, of one of our most
celebrated London actors, {2} and the most intelligent chief, by far,
in this quarter. A great deal of fighting had fallen to his lot, he
said; but it was always others who began; he was invariably in the
right, and they alone were to blame. He was moreover a firm believer
in the divine right of kings. He was an ordinary man, he said, when
his father died, and left him the chieftainship; but directly he
succeeded to the high office, he was conscious of power passing into
his head, and down his back; he felt it enter, and knew that he was a
chief, clothed with authority, and possessed of wisdom; and people
then began to fear and reverence him. He mentioned this, as one
would a fact of natural history, any doubt being quite out of the
question. His people, too, believed in him, for they bathed in the
river without the slightest fear of crocodiles, the chief having
placed a powerful medicine there, which protected them from the bite
of these terrible reptiles.
Leaving the vessel opposite Chibisa's village, Drs. Livingstone and
Kirk and a number of the Makololo started on foot for Lake Shirwa.
They travelled in a northerly direction over a mountainous country.
The people were far from being well-disposed to them, and some of
their guides tried to mislead them, and could not be trusted.
Masakasa, a Makololo headman, overheard some remarks which satisfied
him that the guide was leading them into trouble. He was quiet till
they reached a lonely spot, when he came up to Dr. Livingstone, and
said, "That fellow is bad, he is taking us into mischief; my spear is
sharp, and there is no one here; shall I cast him into the long
grass?" Had the Doctor given the slightest token of assent, or even
kept silence, never more would any one have been led by that guide,
for in a twinkling he would have been where "the wicked cease from
troubling." It was afterwards found that in this case there was no
treachery at all, but a want of knowledge on their part of the
language and of the country. They asked to be led to "Nyanja
Mukulu," or Great Lake, meaning, by this, Lake Shirwa; and the guide
took them round a terribly rough piece of mountainous country,
gradually edging away towards a long marsh, which from the numbers of
those animals we had seen there we had called the Elephant Marsh, but
which was really the place known to him by the name "Nyanja Mukulu,"
or Great Lake. Nyanja or Nyanza means, generally, a marsh, lake,
river, or even a mere rivulet.
The party pushed on at last without guides, or only with crazy ones;
for, oddly enough, they were often under great obligations to the
madmen of the different villages: one of these honoured them, as
they slept in the open air, by dancing and singing at their feet the
whole night. These poor fellows sympathized with the explorers,
probably in the belief that they belonged to their own class; and,
uninfluenced by the general opinion of their countrymen, they really
pitied, and took kindly to the strangers, and often guided them
faithfully from place to place, when no sane man could be hired for
love or money.
The bearing of the Manganja at this time was very independent; a
striking contrast to the cringing attitude they afterwards assumed,
when the cruel scourge of slave-hunting passed over their country.
Signals were given from the different villages by means of drums, and
notes of defiance and intimidation were sounded in the travellers'
ears by day; and occasionally they were kept awake the whole night,
in expectation of an instant attack. Drs. Livingstone and Kirk were
desirous that nothing should occur to make the natives regard them as
enemies; Masakasa, on the other hand, was anxious to show what he
could do in the way of fighting them.
The perseverance of the party was finally crowned with success; for
on the 18th of April they discovered Lake Shirwa, a considerable body
of bitter water, containing leeches, fish, crocodiles, and
hippopotami. From having probably no outlet, the water is slightly
brackish, and it appears to be deep, with islands like hills rising
out of it. Their point of view was at the base of Mount Pirimiti or
Mopeu-peu, on its S.S.W. side. Thence the prospect northwards ended
in a sea horizon with two small islands in the distance--a larger
one, resembling a hill-top and covered with trees, rose more in the
foreground. Ranges of hills appeared on the east; and on the west
stood Mount Chikala, which seems to be connected with the great
mountain-mass called Zomba.
The shore, near which they spent two nights, was covered with reeds
and papyrus. Wishing to obtain the latitude by the natural horizon,
they waded into the water some distance towards what was reported to
be a sand-bank, but were so assaulted by leeches, they were fain to
retreat; and a woman told them that in enticing them into the water
the men only wanted to kill them. The information gathered was that
this lake was nothing in size compared to another in the north, from
which it is separated by only a tongue of land. The northern end of
Shirwa has not been seen, though it has been passed; the length of
the lake may probably be 60 or 80 miles, and about 20 broad. The
height above the sea is 1800 feet, and the taste of the water is like
a weak solution of Epsom salts. The country around is very
beautiful, and clothed with rich vegetation; and the waves, at the
time they were there breaking and foaming over a rock on the south-
eastern side, added to the beauty of the picture. Exceedingly lofty
mountains, perhaps 8000 feet above the sea-level, stand near the
eastern shore. When their lofty steep-sided summits appear, some
above, some below the clouds, the scene is grand. This range is
called Milanje; on the west stands Mount Zomba, 7000 feet in height,
and some twenty miles long.
Their object being rather to gain the confidence of the people by
degrees than to explore, they considered that they had advanced far
enough into the country for one trip; and believing that they could
secure their end by a repetition of their visit, as they had done on
the Shire, they decided to return to the vessel at Dakanamoio island;
but, instead of returning by the way they came, they passed down
southwards close by Mount Chiradzuru, among the relatives of Chibisa,
and thence by the pass Zedi, down to the Shire. The Kroomen had,
while we were away, cut a good supply of wood for steaming, and we
soon proceeded down the river.
The steamer reached Tette on the 23rd of June, and, after undergoing
repairs, proceeded to the Kongone to receive provisions from one of
H.M. cruisers. We had been very abundantly supplied with first-rate
stores, but were unfortunate enough to lose a considerable portion of
them, and had now to bear the privation as best we could. On the way
down, we purchased a few gigantic cabbages and pumpkins at a native
village below Mazaro. Our dinners had usually consisted of but a
single course; but we were surprised the next day by our black cook
from Sierra Leone bearing in a second course. "What have you got
there?" was asked in wonder. "A tart, sir." "A tart! of what is it
made?" "Of cabbage, sir." As we had no sugar, and could not "make
believe," as in the days of boyhood, we did not enjoy the feast that
Tom's genius had prepared. Her Majesty's brig "Persian," Lieutenant
Saumarez commanding, called on her way to the Cape; and, though
somewhat short of provisions herself, generously gave us all she
could spare. We now parted with our Kroomen, as, from their
inability to march, we could not use them in our land journeys. A
crew was picked out from the Makololo, who, besides being good
travellers, could cut wood, work the ship, and required only native
food.
While at the Kongone it was found necessary to beach the steamer for
repairs. She was built of a newly invented sort of steel plates,
only a sixteenth of an inch in thickness, patented, but unfortunately
never tried before. To build an exploring ship of untried material
was a mistake. Some chemical action on this preparation of steel
caused a minute hole; from this point, branches like lichens, or the
little ragged stars we sometimes see in thawing ice, radiated in all
directions. Small holes went through wherever a bend occurred in
these branches. The bottom very soon became like a sieve, completely
full of minute holes, which leaked perpetually. The engineer stopped
the larger ones, but the vessel was no sooner afloat, than new ones
broke out. The first news of a morning was commonly the unpleasant
announcement of another leak in the forward compartment, or in the
middle, which was worse still.
Frequent showers fell on our way up the Zambesi, in the beginning of
August. On the 8th we had upwards of three inches of rain, which
large quantity, more than falls in any single rainy day during the
season at Tette, we owed to being near the sea. Sometimes the cabin
was nearly flooded; for, in addition to the leakage from below, rain
poured through the roof, and an umbrella had to be used whenever we
wished to write: the mode of coupling the compartments, too, was a
new one, and the action of the hinder compartment on the middle one
pumped up the water of the river, and sent it in streams over the
floor and lockers, where lay the cushions which did double duty as
chairs and beds. In trying to form an opinion of the climate, it
must be recollected that much of the fever, from which we suffered,
was caused by sleeping on these wet cushions. Many of the botanical
specimens, laboriously collected and carefully prepared by Dr. Kirk,
were destroyed, or double work imposed, by their accidentally falling
into wet places in the cabin.
About the middle of August, after cutting wood at Shamoara, we again
steamed up the Shire, with the intention of becoming better
acquainted with the people, and making another and longer journey on
foot to the north of Lake Shirwa, in search of Lake Nyassa, of which
we had already received some information, under the name Nyinyesi
(the stars). The Shire is much narrower than the Zambesi, but
deeper, and more easily navigated. It drains a low and exceedingly
fertile valley of from fifteen to twenty miles in breadth. Ranges of
wooded hills bound this valley on both sides. For the first twenty
miles the hills on the left bank are close to the river; then comes
Morambala, a detached mountain 500 yards from the river's brink,
which rises, with steep sides on the west, to 4000 feet in height,
and is about seven miles in length. It is wooded up to the very top,
and very beautiful. The southern end, seen from a distance, has a
fine gradual slope, and looks as if it might be of easy ascent; but
the side which faces the Shire is steep and rocky, especially in the
upper half. A small village peeps out about halfway up the mountain;
it has a pure and bracing atmosphere; and is perched above mosquito
range. The people on the summit have a very different climate and
vegetation from those of the plains; but they have to spend a great
portion of their existence amidst white fleecy clouds, which, in the
rainy season, rest daily on the top of their favourite mountain. We
were kindly treated by these mountaineers on our first ascent; before
our second they were nearly all swept away by Mariano. Dr. Kirk
found upwards of thirty species of ferns on this and other mountains,
and even good-sized tree-ferns; though scarcely a single kind is to
be met with on the plains. Lemon and orange trees grew wild, and
pineapples had been planted by the people. Many large hornbills,
hawks, monkeys, antelopes, and rhinoceroses found a home and food
among the great trees round its base. A hot fountain boils up on the
plain near the north end. It bubbles out of the earth, clear as
crystal, at two points, or eyes, a few yards apart from each other,
and sends off a fine flowing stream of hot water. The temperature
was found to be 174 degrees Fahr., and it boiled an egg in about the
usual time. Our guide threw in a small branch to show us how
speedily the Madse-awira (boiling water) could kill the leaves.
Unlucky lizards and insects did not seem to understand the nature of
a hot-spring, as many of their remains were lying at the bottom. A
large beetle had alighted on the water, and been killed before it had
time to fold its wings. An incrustation, smelling of sulphur, has
been deposited by the water on the stones. About a hundred feet from
the eye of the fountain the mud is as hot as can be borne by the
body. In taking a bath there, it makes the skin perfectly clean, and
none of the mud adheres: it is strange that the Portuguese do not
resort to it for the numerous cutaneous diseases with which they are
so often afflicted.
A few clumps of the palm and acacia trees appear west of Morambala,
on the rich plain forming the tongue of land between the rivers Shire
and Zambesi. This is a good place for all sorts of game. The
Zambesi canoe-men were afraid to sleep on it from the idea of lions
being there; they preferred to pass the night on an island. Some
black men, who accompanied us as volunteer workmen from Shupanga,
called out one evening that a lion stood on the bank. It was very
dark, and we could only see two sparkling lights, said to be the
lion's eyes looking at us; for here, as elsewhere, they have a theory
that the lion's eyes always flash fire at night. Not being
fireflies--as they did not move when a shot was fired in their
direction--they were probably glowworms.
Beyond Morambala the Shire comes winding through an extensive marsh.
For many miles to the north a broad sea of fresh green grass extends,
and is so level, that it might be used for taking the meridian
altitude of the sun. Ten or fifteen miles north of Morambala, stands
the dome-shaped mountain Makanga, or Chi-kanda; several others with
granitic-looking peaks stretch away to the north, and form the
eastern boundary of the valley; another range, but of metamorphic
rocks, commencing opposite Senna, bounds the valley on the west.
After streaming through a portion of this marsh, we came to a broad
belt of palm and other trees, crossing the fine plain on the right
bank. Marks of large game were abundant. Elephants had been feeding
on the palm nuts, which have a pleasant fruity taste, and are used as
food by man. Two pythons were observed coiled together among the
branches of a large tree, and were both shot. The larger of the two,
a female, was ten feet long. They are harmless, and said to be good
eating. The Makololo having set fire to the grass where they were
cutting wood, a solitary buffalo rushed out of the conflagration, and
made a furious charge at an active young fellow named Mantlanyane.
Never did his fleet limbs serve him better than during the few
seconds of his fearful flight before the maddened animal. When he
reached the bank, and sprang into the river, the infuriated beast was
scarcely six feet behind him. Towards evening, after the day's
labour in wood-cutting was over, some of the men went fishing. They
followed the common African custom of agitating the water, by giving
it a few sharp strokes with the top of the fishing-rod, immediately
after throwing in the line, to attract the attention of the fish to
the bait. Having caught nothing, the reason assigned was the same as
would have been given in England under like circumstances, namely,
that "the wind made the fish cold, and they would not bite." Many
gardens of maize, pumpkins, and tobacco, fringed the marshy banks as
we went on. They belong to natives of the hills, who come down in
the dry season, and raise a crop on parts at other times flooded.
While the crops are growing, large quantities of fish are caught,
chiefly Clarias capensis, and Mugil Africanus; they are dried for
sale or future consumption.
As we ascended, we passed a deep stream about thirty yards wide,
flowing in from a body of open water several miles broad. Numbers of
men were busy at different parts of it, filling their canoes with the
lotus root, called Nyika, which, when boiled or roasted, resembles
our chestnuts, and is extensively used in Africa as food. Out of
this lagoon, and by this stream, the chief part of the duckweed of
the Shire flows. The lagoon itself is called Nyanja ea Motope (Lake
of Mud). It is also named Nyanja Pangono (Little Lake), while the
elephant marsh goes by the name of Nyanja Mukulu (Great Lake). It is
evident from the shore line still to be observed on the adjacent
hills, that in ancient times these were really lakes, and the
traditional names thus preserved are only another evidence of the
general desiccation which Africa has undergone.
CHAPTER III.
The Steamer in difficulties--Elephant hunting--Arrival at Chibisa's--
Search for Lake Nyassa--The Manganja country--Weavers and smelters--
Lake Pamalombe.
Late in the afternoon of the first day's steaming, after we left the
wooding-place, we called at the village of Chikanda-Kadze, a female
chief, to purchase rice for our men; but we were now in the blissful
region where time is absolutely of no account, and where men may sit
down and rest themselves when tired; so they requested us to wait
till next day, and they would then sell us some food. As our forty
black men, however, had nothing to cook for supper, we were obliged
to steam on to reach a village a few miles above. When we meet those
who care not whether we purchase or let it alone, or who think men
ought only to be in a hurry when fleeing from an enemy, our ideas
about time being money, and the power of the purse, receives a shock.
The state of eager competition, which in England wears out both mind
and body, and makes life bitter, is here happily unknown. The
cultivated spots are mere dots compared to the broad fields of rich
soil which is never either grazed or tilled. Pity that the plenty in
store for all, from our Father's bountiful hands, is not enjoyed by
more.
The wretched little steamer could not carry all the hands we needed;
so, to lighten her, we put some into the boats and towed them astern.
In the dark, one of the boats was capsized; but all in it, except one
poor fellow who could not swim, were picked up. His loss threw a
gloom over us all, and added to the chagrin we often felt at having
been so ill-served in our sorry craft.
Next day we arrived at the village of Mboma (16 degrees 56 minutes 30
seconds S.), where the people raised large quantities of rice, and
were eager traders; the rice was sold at wonderfully low rates, and
we could not purchase a tithe of the food brought for sale.
A native minstrel serenaded us in the evening, playing several quaint
tunes on a species of one stringed fiddle, accompanied by wild, but
not unmusical songs. He told the Makololo that he intended to play
all night to induce us to give him a present. The nights being cold,
the thermometer falling to 47 degrees, with occasional fogs, he was
asked if he was not afraid of perishing from cold; but, with the
genuine spirit of an Italian organ-grinder, he replied, "Oh, no; I
shall spend the night with my white comrades in the big canoe; I have
often heard of the white men, but have never seen them till now, and
I must sing and play well to them." A small piece of cloth, however,
bought him off, and he moved away in good humour. The water of the
river was 70 degrees at sunrise, which was 23 degrees warmer than the
air at the same time, and this caused fogs, which rose like steam off
the river. When this is the case cold bathing in the mornings at
this time of the year is improper, for, instead of a glow on coming
out, one is apt to get a chill; the air being so much colder than the
water.
A range of hills, commencing opposite Senna, comes to within two or
three miles of Mboma village, and then runs in a north-westerly
direction; the principal hill is named Malawe; a number of villages
stand on its tree-covered sides, and coal is found cropping out in
the rocks. The country improves as we ascend, the rich valley
becoming less swampy, and adorned with a number of trees.
Both banks are dotted with hippopotamus traps, over every track which
these animals have made in going up out of the water to graze. The
hippopotamus feeds on grass alone, and, where there is any danger,
only at night. Its enormous lips act like a mowing-machine, and form
a path of short-cropped grass as it feeds. We never saw it eat
aquatic plants or reeds. The tusks seem weapons of both offence and
defence. The hippopotamus trap consists of a beam five or six feet
long, armed with a spear-head or hard-wood spike, covered with
poison, and suspended to a forked pole by a cord, which, coming down
to the path, is held by a catch, to be set free when the beast treads
on it. Being wary brutes, they are still very numerous. One got
frightened by the ship, as she was steaming close to the bank. In
its eager hurry to escape it rushed on shore, and ran directly under
a trap, when down came the heavy beam on its back, driving the
poisoned spear-head a foot deep into its flesh. In its agony it
plunged back into the river, to die in a few hours, and afterwards
furnished a feast for the natives. The poison on the spear-head does
not affect the meat, except the part around the wound, and that is
thrown away. In some places the descending beam is weighted with
heavy stones, but here the hard heavy wood is sufficient.
"She is leaking worse than ever forward, sir, and there is a foot of
water in the hold," was our first salutation on the morning of the
20th. But we have become accustomed to these things now; the cabin-
floor is always wet, and one is obliged to mop up the water many
times a day, giving some countenance to the native idea that
Englishmen live in or on the water, and have no houses but ships.
The cabin is now a favourite breeding-place for mosquitoes, and we
have to support both the ship-bred and shore-bred bloodsuckers, of
which several species show us their irritating attentions. A large
brown sort, called by the Portuguese mansos (tame), flies straight to
its victim, and goes to work at once, as though it were an invited
guest. Some of the small kinds carry uncommonly sharp lancets, and
very potent poison. "What would these insects eat, if we did not
pass this way?" becomes a natural question.
The juices of plants, and decaying vegetable matter in the mud,
probably form the natural food of mosquitoes, and blood is not
necessary for their existence. They appear so commonly at malarious
spots, that their presence may be taken as a hint to man to be off to
more healthy localities. None appear on the high lands. On the low
lands they swarm in myriads. The females alone are furnished with
the biting apparatus, and their number appears to be out of all
proportion in excess of the males. At anchor, on a still evening,
they were excessively annoying; and the sooner we took refuge under
our mosquito curtains, the better. The miserable and sleepless night
that only one mosquito inside the curtain can cause, is so well
known, and has been so often described, that it is needless to
describe it here. One soon learns, from experience, that to beat out
the curtains thoroughly before entering them, so that not one of
these pests can possibly be harboured within, is the only safeguard
against such severe trials to one's tranquillity and temper.
A few miles above Mboma we came again to the village (16 degrees 44
minutes 30 seconds S.) of the chief Tingane, the beat of whose war-
drums can speedily muster some hundreds of armed men. The bows and
poisoned arrows here are of superior workmanship to those below.
Mariano's slave-hunting parties stood in great awe of these barbed
arrows, and long kept aloof from Tingane's villages. His people were
friendly enough with us now, and covered the banks with a variety of
articles for sale. The majestic mountain, Chipirone, to which we
have given the name of Mount Clarendon, now looms in sight, and
further to the N.W. the southern end of the grand Milanje range rises
in the form of an unfinished sphinx looking down on Lake Shirwa. The
Ruo (16 degrees 31 minutes 0 seconds S.) is said to have its source
in the Milanje mountains, and flows to the S.W., to join the Shire
some distance above Tingane's. A short way beyond the Ruo lies the
Elephant marsh, or Nyanja Mukulu, which is frequented by vast herds
of these animals. We believe that we counted eight hundred elephants
in sight at once. In the choice of such a strong hold, they have
shown their usual sagacity, for no hunter can get near them through
the swamps. They now keep far from the steamer; but, when she first
came up, we steamed into the midst of a herd, and some were shot from
the ship's deck. A single lesson was sufficient to teach them that
the steamer was a thing to be avoided; and at the first glimpse they
are now off two or three miles to the midst of the marsh, which is
furrowed in every direction by wandering branches of the Shire. A
fine young elephant was here caught alive, as he was climbing up the
bank to follow his retreating dam. When laid hold of, he screamed
with so much energy that, to escape a visit from the enraged mother,
we steamed off, and dragged him through the water by the proboscis.
As the men were holding his trunk over the gunwale, Monga, a brave
Makololo elephant-hunter, rushed aft, and drew his knife across it in
a sort of frenzy peculiar to the chase. The wound was skilfully sewn
up, and the young animal soon became quite tame, but, unfortunately
the breathing prevented the cut from healing, and he died in a few
days from loss of blood. Had he lived, and had we been able to bring
him home, he would have been the first AFRICAN elephant ever seen in
England. The African male elephant is from ten to a little over
eleven feet in height, and differs from the Asiatic species more
particularly in the convex shape of his forehead, and the enormous
size of his ears. In Asia many of the males, and all the females,
are without tusks, but in Africa both sexes are provided with these
weapons. The enamel in the molar teeth is arranged differently in
the two species. By an admirable provision, new teeth constantly
come up at the part where in man the wisdom teeth appear, and these
push the others along, and out at the front end of the jaws, thus
keeping the molars sound by renewal, till the animal attains a very
great age. The tusks of animals from dry rocky countries are very
munch more dense and heavier than those from wet and marshy
districts, but the latter attain much the larger size.
The Shire marshes support prodigious numbers of many kinds of water-
fowl. An hour at the mast-head unfolds novel views of life in an
African marsh. Near the edge, and on the branches of some favourite
tree, rest scores of plotuses and cormorants, which stretch their
snake-like necks, and in mute amazement turn one eye and then another
towards the approaching monster. By and-by the timid ones begin to
fly off, or take "headers" into the stream; but a few of the bolder,
or more composed, remain, only taking the precaution to spread their
wings ready for instant flight. The pretty ardetta (Herodias
bubulcus), of a light yellow colour when at rest, but seemingly of a
pure white when flying, takes wing, and sweeps across the green grass
in large numbers, often showing us where buffaloes and elephants are,
by perching on their backs. Flocks of ducks, of which the kind
called "Soriri" (Dendrocygna personata) is most abundant, being night
feeders, meditate quietly by the small lagoons, until startled by the
noise of the steam machinery. Pelicans glide over the water,
catching fish, while the Scopus (Scopus umbretta) and large herons
peer intently into pools. The large black and white spur-winged
goose (a constant marauder of native gardens) springs up, and circles
round to find out what the disturbance can be, and then settles down
again with a splash. Hundreds of Linongolos (Anastomus lamelligerus)
rise on the wing from the clumps of reeds, or low trees (the
Eschinomena, from which pith hats are made), on which they build in
colonies, and are speedily high in mid-air. Charming little red and
yellow weavers (Ploceidae) remind one of butterflies, as they fly in
and out of the tall grass, or hang to the mouths of their pendent
nests, chattering briskly to their mates within. These weavers seem
to have "cock nests," built with only a roof, and a perch beneath,
with a doorway on each side. The natives say they are made to
protect the bird from the rain. Though her husband is very
attentive, we have seen the hen bird tearing her mate's nest to
pieces, but why we cannot tell. Kites and vultures are busy
overhead, beating the ground for their repast of carrion; and the
solemn-looking, stately-stepping Marabout, with a taste for dead
fish, or men, stalks slowly along the almost stagnant channels.
Groups of men and boys are searching diligently in various places for
lotus and other roots. Some are standing in canoes, on the weed-
covered ponds, spearing fish, while others are punting over the small
intersecting streams, to examine their sunken fish-baskets.
Towards evening, hundreds of pretty little hawks (Erythropus
vespertinus) are seen flying in a southerly direction, and feeding on
dragon-flies and locusts. They come, apparently, from resting on the
palm-trees during the heat of the day. Flocks of scissor-bills
(Rhyncops) are then also on the wing, and in search of food,
ploughing the water with their lower mandibles, which are nearly half
an inch longer than the upper ones.
At the north-eastern end of the marsh, and about three miles from the
river, commences a great forest of palm-trees (Borassus Aethiopium).
It extends many miles, and at one point comes close to the river.
The grey trunks and green tops of this immense mass of trees give a
pleasing tone of colour to the view. The mountain-range, which rises
close behind the palms, is generally of a cheerful green, and has
many trees, with patches of a lighter tint among them, as if spots of
land had once been cultivated. The sharp angular rocks and dells on
its sides have the appearance of a huge crystal broken; and this is
so often the case in Africa, that one can guess pretty nearly at
sight whether a range is of the old crystalline rocks or not. The
Borassus, though not an oil-bearing palm, is a useful tree. The
fibrous pulp round the large nuts is of a sweet fruity taste, and is
eaten by men and elephants. The natives bury the nuts until the
kernels begin to sprout; when dug up and broken, the inside resembles
coarse potatoes, and is prized in times of scarcity as nutritious
food. During several months of the year, palm-wine, or sura, is
obtained in large quantities; when fresh, it is a pleasant drink,
somewhat like champagne, and not at all intoxicating; though, after
standing a few hours, it becomes highly so. Sticks, a foot long, are
driven into notches in the hard outside of the tree--the inside being
soft or hollow--to serve as a ladder; the top of the fruit-shoot is
cut off, and the sap, pouring out at the fresh wound, is caught in an
earthen pot, which is hung at the point. A thin slice is taken off
the end, to open the pores, and make the juice flow every time the
owner ascends to empty the pot. Temporary huts are erected in the
forest, and men and boys remain by their respective trees day and
night; the nuts, fish, and wine, being their sole food. The
Portuguese use the palm-wine as yeast, and it makes bread so light,
that it melts in the mouth like froth.
Beyond the marsh the country is higher, and has a much larger
population. We passed a long line of temporary huts, on a plain on
the right bank, with crowds of men and women hard at work making
salt. They obtain it by mixing the earth, which is here highly
saline, with water, in a pot with a small hole in it, and then
evaporating the liquid, which runs through, in the sun. From the
number of women we saw carrying it off in bags, we concluded that
vast quantities must be made at these works. It is worth observing
that on soils like this, containing salt, the cotton is of larger and
finer staple than elsewhere. We saw large tracts of this rich
brackish soil both in the Shire and Zambesi valleys, and hence,
probably, sea-island cotton would do well; a single plant of it,
reared by Major Sicard, flourished and produced the long staple and
peculiar tinge of this celebrated variety, though planted only in the
street at Tette; and there also a salt efflorescence appears,
probably from decomposition of the rock, off which the people scrape
it for use.
The large village of the chief, Mankokwe, occupies a site on the
right bank; he owns a number of fertile islands, and is said to be
the Rundo, or paramount chief, of a large district. Being of an
unhappy suspicious disposition, he would not see us; so we thought it
best to move on, rather than spend time in seeking his favour.
On the 25th August we reached Dakanamoio island, opposite the
perpendicular bluff on which Chibisa's village stands; he had gone,
with most of his people, to live near the Zambesi, but his headman
was civil, and promised us guides and whatever else we needed. A few
of the men were busy cleaning, sorting, spinning, and weaving cotton.
This is a common sight in nearly every village, and each family
appears to have its patch of cotton, as our own ancestors in Scotland
had each his patch of flax. Near sunset an immense flock of the
large species of horn-bill (Buceros cristatus) came here to roost on
the great trees which skirt the edge of the cliff. They leave early
in the morning, often before sunrise, for their feeding-places,
coming and going in pairs. They are evidently of a loving
disposition, and strongly attached to each other, the male always
nestling close beside his mate. A fine male fell to the ground, from
fear, at the report of Dr. Kirk's gun; it was caught and kept on
board; the female did not go off in the mornings to feed with the
others, but flew round the ship, anxiously trying, by her plaintive
calls, to induce her beloved one to follow her: she came again in
the evenings to repeat the invitations. The poor disconsolate
captive soon refused to eat, and in five days died of grief, because
he could not have her company. No internal injury could be detected
after death.
Chibisa and his wife, with a natural show of parental feeling, had
told the Doctor, on his previous visit, that a few years before some
of Chisaka's men had kidnapped and sold their little daughter, and
that she was now a slave to the padre at Tette. On his return to
Tette, the Doctor tried hard to ransom and restore the girl to her
parents, and offered twice the value of a slave; the padre seemed
willing, but she could not be found. This padre was better than the
average men of the country; and, being always civil and obliging,
would probably have restored her gratuitously, but she had been sold,
it might be to the distant tribe Bazizulu, or he could not tell
where. Custom had rendered his feelings callous, and Chibisa had to
be told that his child would never return. It is this callous state
of mind which leads some of our own blood to quote Scripture in
support of slavery. If we could afford to take a backward step in
civilization, we might find men among ourselves who would in like
manner prove Mormonism or any other enormity to be divine.
We left the ship on the 28th of August, 1859, for the discovery of
Lake Nyassa. Our party numbered forty-two in all--four whites,
thirty-six Makololo, and two guides. We did not actually need so
many, either for carriage or defence; but took them because we
believed that, human nature being everywhere the same, blacks are as
ready as whites to take advantage of the weak, and are as civil and
respectful to the powerful. We armed our men with muskets, which
gave us influence, although it did not add much to our strength, as
most of the men had never drawn a trigger, and in any conflict would
in all probability have been more dangerous to us than the enemy.
Our path crossed the valley, in a north-easterly direction, up the
course of a beautiful flowing stream. Many of the gardens had
excellent cotton growing in them. An hour's march brought us to the
foot of the Manganja hills, up which lay the toilsome road. The
vegetation soon changed; as we rose bamboos appeared, and new trees
and plants were met with, which gave such incessant employment to Dr.
Kirk, that he travelled the distance three times over. Remarkably
fine trees, one of which has oil-yielding seeds, and belongs to the
mahogany family, grow well in the hollows along the rivulet courses.
The ascent became very fatiguing, and we were glad of a rest.
Looking back from an elevation of a thousand feet, we beheld a lovely
prospect. The eye takes in at a glance the valley beneath, and the
many windings of its silver stream Makubula, or Kubvula, from the
shady hill-side, where it emerges in foaming haste, to where it
slowly glides into the tranquil Shire; then the Shire itself is seen
for many a mile above and below Chibisa's, and the great level
country beyond, with its numerous green woods; until the prospect,
west and north-west, is bounded far away by masses of peaked and
dome-shaped blue mountains, that fringe the highlands of the Maravi
country.
After a weary march we halted at Makolongwi, the village of Chitimba.
It stands in a woody hollow on the first of the three terraces of the
Manganja hills, and, like all other Manganja villages, is surrounded
by an impenetrable hedge of poisonous euphorbia. This tree casts a
deep shade, which would render it difficult for bowmen to take aim at
the villagers inside. The grass does not grow beneath it, and this
may be the reason why it is so universally used, for when dry the
grass would readily convey fire to the huts inside; moreover, the
hedge acts as a fender to all flying sparks. As strangers are wont
to do, we sat down under some fine trees near the entrance of the
village. A couple of mats, made of split reeds, were spread for the
white men to sit on; and the headman brought a seguati, or present,
of a small goat and a basket of meal. The full value in beads and
cotton cloth was handed to him in return. He measured the cloth,
doubled it, and then measured that again. The beads were
scrutinized; he had never seen beads of that colour before, and
should like to consult with his comrades before accepting them, and
this, after repeated examinations and much anxious talk, he concluded
to do. Meal and peas were then brought for sale. A fathom of blue
cotton cloth, a full dress for man or woman, was produced. Our
Makololo headman, Sininyane, thinking a part of it was enough for the
meal, was proceeding to tear it, when Chitimba remarked that it was a
pity to cut such a nice dress for his wife, he would rather bring
more meal. "All right," said Sininyane; "but look, the cloth is very
wide, so see that the basket which carries the meal be wide too, and
add a cock to make the meal taste nicely." A brisk trade sprang up
at once, each being eager to obtain as fine things as his neighbour,-
-and all were in good humour. Women and girls began to pound and
grind meal, and men and boys chased the screaming fowls over the
village, until they ran them down. In a few hours the market was
completely glutted with every sort of native food; the prices,
however, rarely fell, as they could easily eat what was not sold.
We slept under the trees, the air being pheasant, and no mosquitoes
on the hills. According to our usual plan of marching, by early dawn
our camp was in motion. After a cup of coffee and a bit of biscuit
we were on the way. The air was deliciously cool, and the path a
little easier than that of yesterday. We passed a number of
villages, occupying very picturesque spots among the hills, and in a
few hours gained the upper terrace, 3000 feet above the level of the
sea. The plateau lies west of the Milanje mountains, and its north-
eastern border slopes down to Lake Shirwa. We were all charmed with
the splendid country, and looked with never-failing delight on its
fertile plains, its numerous hills, and majestic mountains. In some
of the passes we saw bramble-berries growing; and the many other
flowers, though of great beauty, did not remind us of youth and of
home like the ungainly thorny bramble-bushes. We were a week in
crossing the high-lands in a northerly direction; then we descended
into the Upper Shire Valley, which is nearly 1200 feet above the
level of the sea. This valley is wonderfully fertile, and supports a
large population. After leaving the somewhat flat-topped southern
portion, the most prominent mountain of the Zomba range is Njongone,
which has a fine stream running past its northern base. We were
detained at the end of the chain some days by one of our companions
being laid up with fever. One night we were suddenly aroused by
buffaloes rushing close by the sick-bed. We were encamped by a wood
on the border of a marsh, but our patient soon recovered,
notwithstanding the unfavourable situation, and the poor
accommodation.
The Manganja country is delightfully well watered. The clear, cool,
gushing streams are very numerous. Once we passed seven fine brooks
and a spring in a single hour, and this, too, near the close of the
dry season. Mount Zomba, which is twenty miles long, and from 7000
to 8000 feet high, has a beautiful stream flowing through a verdant
valley on its summit, and running away down into Lake Shirwa. The
highlands are well wooded, and many trees, admirable for their height
and timber, grow on the various watercourses. "Is this country good
for cattle?" we inquired of a Makololo herdsman, whose occupation had
given him skill in pasturage. "Truly," he replied, "do you not see
abundance of those grasses which the cattle love, and get fat upon?"
Yet the people have but few goats, and fewer sheep. With the
exception of an occasional leopard, there are no beasts of prey to
disturb domestic animals. Wool-sheep would, without doubt, thrive on
these highlands. Part of the Upper Shire valley has a lady
paramount, named Nyango; and in her dominions women rank higher and
receive more respectful treatment than their sisters on the hills.
The hill chief, Mongazi, called his wife to take charge of a present
we had given him. She dropped down on her knees, clapping her hands
in reverence, before and after receiving our presents from his lordly
hands. It was painful to see the abject manner in which the women of
the hill tribes knelt beside the path as we passed; but a great
difference took place when we got into Nyango's country.
On entering a village, we proceeded, as all strangers do, at once to
the Boalo: mats of split reeds or bamboo were usually spread for us
to sit on. Our guides then told the men who might be there, who we
were, whence we had come, whither we wanted to go, and what were our
objects. This information was duly carried to the chief, who, if a
sensible man, came at once; but, if he happened to be timid and
suspicious, waited until he had used divination, and his warriors had
time to come in from outlying hamlets. When he makes his appearance,
all the people begin to clap their hands in unison, and continue
doing so till he sits down opposite to us. His counsellors take
their places beside him. He makes a remark or two, and is then
silent for a few seconds. Our guides then sit down in front of the
chief and his counsellors, and both parties lean forward, looking
earnestly at each other; the chief repeats a word, such as "Ambuiatu"
(our Father, or master)--or "moio" (life), and all clap their hands.
Another word is followed by two claps, a third by still more
clapping, when each touches the ground with both hands placed
together. Then all rise and lean forward with measured clap, and sit
down again with clap, clap, clap, fainter, and still fainter, till
the last dies away, or is brought to an end by a smart loud clap from
the chief. They keep perfect time in this species of court
etiquette. Our guides now tell the chief, often in blank verse, all
they have already told his people, with the addition perhaps of their
own suspicions of the visitors. He asks some questions, and then
converses with us through the guides. Direct communication between
the chief and the head of the stranger party is not customary. In
approaching they often ask who is the spokesman, and the spokesman of
the chief addresses the person indicated exclusively. There is no
lack of punctilious good manners. The accustomed presents are
exchanged with civil ceremoniousness; until our men, wearied and
hungry, call out, "English do not buy slaves, they buy food," and
then the people bring meal, maize, fowls, batatas, yams, beans, beer,
for sale.
The Manganja are an industrious race; and in addition to working in
iron, cotton, and basket-making, they cultivate the soil extensively.
All the people of a village turn out to labour in the fields. It is
no uncommon thing to see men, women, and children hard at work, with
the baby lying close by beneath a shady bush. When a new piece of
woodland is to be cleared, they proceed exactly as farmers do in
America. The trees are cut down with their little axes of soft
native iron; trunks and branches are piled up and burnt, and the
ashes spread on the soil. The corn is planted among the standing
stumps which are left to rot. If grass land is to be brought under
cultivation, as much tall grass as the labourer can conveniently lay
hold of is collected together and tied into a knot. He then strikes
his hoe round the tufts to sever the roots, and leaving all standing,
proceeds until the whole ground assumes the appearance of a field
covered with little shocks of corn in harvest. A short time before
the rains begin, these grass shocks are collected in small heaps,
covered with earth, and burnt, the ashes and burnt soil being used to
fertilize the ground. Large crops of the mapira, or Egyptian dura
(Holcus sorghum), are raised, with millet, beans, and ground-nuts;
also patches of yams, rice, pumpkins, cucumbers, cassava, sweet
potatoes, tobacco, and hemp, or bang (Cannabis setiva). Maize is
grown all the year round. Cotton is cultivated at almost every
village. Three varieties of cotton have been found in the country,
namely, two foreign and one native. The "tonje manga," or foreign
cotton, the name showing that it has been introduced, is of excellent
quality, and considered at Manchester to be nearly equal to the best
New Orleans. It is perennial, but requires replanting once in three
years. A considerable amount of this variety is grown in the Upper
and Lower Shire valleys. Every family of any importance owns a
cotton patch which, from the entire absence of weeds, seemed to be
carefully cultivated. Most were small, none seen on this journey
exceeding half an acre; but on the former trip some were observed of
more than twice that size.
The "tonje cadja," or indigenous cotton, is of shorter staple, and
feels in the hand like wool. This kind has to be planted every
season in the highlands; yet, because it makes stronger cloth, many
of the people prefer it to the foreign cotton; the third variety is
not found here. It was remarked to a number of men near the Shire
Lakelet, a little further on towards Nyassa, "You should plant plenty
of cotton, and probably the English will come and buy it." "Truly,"
replied a far-travelled Babisa trader to his fellows, "the country is
full of cotton, and if these people come to buy they will enrich us."
Our own observation on the cotton cultivated convinced us that this
was no empty flourish, but a fact. Everywhere we met with it, and
scarcely ever entered a village without finding a number of men
cleaning, spinning, and weaving. It is first carefully separated
from the seed by the fingers, or by an iron roller, on a little block
of wood, and rove out into long soft bands without twist. Then it
receives its first twist on the spindle, and becomes about the
thickness of coarse candlewick; after being taken off and wound into
a large ball, it is given the final hard twist, and spun into a firm
cop on the spindle again: all the processes being painfully slow.
Iron ore is dug out of the hills, and its manufacture is the staple
trade of the southern highlands. Each village has its smelting-
house, its charcoal-burners, and blacksmiths. They make good axes,
spears, needles, arrowheads, bracelets and anklets, which,
considering the entire absence of machinery, are sold at surprisingly
low rates; a hoe over two pounds in weight is exchanged for calico of
about the value of fourpence. In villages near Lake Shirwa and
elsewhere, the inhabitants enter pretty largely into the manufacture
of crockery, or pottery, making by hand all sorts of cooking, water,
and grain pots, which they ornament with plumbago found in the hills.
Some find employment in weaving neat baskets from split bamboos, and
others collect the fibre of the buaze, which grows abundantly on the
hills, and make it into fish-nets. These they either use themselves,
or exchange with the fishermen on the river or lakes for dried fish
and salt. A great deal of native trade is carried on between the
villages, by means of barter in tobacco, salt, dried fish, skins, and
iron. Many of the men are intelligent-looking, with well-shaped
heads, agreeable faces, and high foreheads. We soon learned to
forget colour, and we frequently saw countenances resembling those of
white people we had known in England, which brought back the looks of
forgotten ones vividly before the mind. The men take a good deal of
pride in the arrangement of their hair; the varieties of style are
endless. One trains his long locks till they take the admired form
of the buffalo's horns; others prefer to let their hair hang in a
thick coil down their backs, like that animal's tail; while another
wears it in twisted cords, which, stiffened by fillets of the inner
bark of a tree wound spirally round each curl, radiate from the head
in all directions. Some have it hanging all round the shoulders in
large masses; others shave it off altogether. Many shave part of it
into ornamental figures, in which the fancy of the barber crops out
conspicuously. About as many dandies run to seed among the blacks as
among the whites. The Man ganja adorn their bodies extravagantly,
wearing rings on their fingers and thumbs, besides throatlets,
bracelets, and anklets of brass, copper, or iron. But the most
wonderful of ornaments, if such it may be called, is the pelele, or
upper-lip ring of the women. The middle of the upper lip of the
girls is pierced close to the septum of the nose, and a small pin
inserted to prevent the puncture closing up. After it has healed,
the pin is taken out and a larger one is pressed into its place, and
so on successively for weeks, and months, and years. The process of
increasing the size of the lip goes on till its capacity becomes so
great that a ring of two inches diameter can be introduced with ease.
All the highland women wear the pelele, and it is common on the Upper
and Lower Shire. The poorer classes make them of hollow or of solid
bamboo, but the wealthier of ivory or tin. The tin pelele is often
made in the form of a small dish. The ivory one is not unlike a
napkin-ring. No woman ever appears in public without the pelele,
except in times of mourning for the dead. It is frightfully ugly to
see the upper lip projecting two inches beyond the tip of the nose.
When an old wearer of a hollow bamboo ring smiles, by the action of
the muscles of the cheeks, the ring and lip outside it are dragged
back and thrown above the eyebrows. The nose is seen through the
middle of the ring, amid the exposed teeth show how carefully they
have been chipped to look like those of a cat or crocodile. The
pelele of an old lady, Chikanda Kadze, a chieftainess, about twenty
miles north of Morambala, hung down below her chin, with, of course,
a piece of the upper lip around its border. The labial letters
cannot be properly pronounced, but the under lip has to do its best
for them, against the upper teeth and gum. Tell them it makes them
ugly; they had better throw it away; they reply, "Kodi! Really! it
is the fashion." How this hideous fashion originated is an enigma.
Can thick lips ever have been thought beautiful, and this mode of
artificial enlargement resorted to in consequence? The constant
twiddling of the pelele with the tongue by the younger women
suggested the irreverent idea that it might have been invented to
give safe employment to that little member. "Why do the women wear
these things?" we inquired of the old chief, Chinsunse. Evidently
surprised at such a stupid question, he replied, "For beauty, to be
sure! Men have beards and whiskers; women have none; and what kind
of creature would a woman be without whiskers, and without the
pelele? She would have a mouth like a man, and no beard; ha! ha!
ha!" Afterwards on the Rovuma, we found men wearing the pelele, as
well as women. An idea suggested itself on seeing the effects of the
slight but constant pressure exerted on the upper gum and front
teeth, of which our medical brethren will judge the value. In many
cases the upper front teeth, instead of the natural curve outwards,
which the row presents, had been pressed so as to appear as if the
line of alveoli in which they were planted had an inward curve. As
this was produced by the slight pressure of the pelele backwards,
persons with too prominent teeth might by slight, but long-continued
pressure, by some appliance only as elastic as the lip, have the
upper gum and teeth depressed, especially in youth, more easily than
is usually imagined. The pressure should be applied to the upper gum
more than to the teeth.
The Manganja are not a sober people: they brew large quantities of
beer, and like it well. Having no hops, or other means of checking
fermentation, they are obliged to drink the whole brew in a few days,
or it becomes unfit for use. Great merry-makings take place on these
occasions, and drinking, drumming, and dancing continue day and
night, till the beer is gone. In crossing the hills we sometimes
found whole villages enjoying this kind of mirth. The veteran
traveller of the party remarked, that he had not seen so much
drunkenness during all the sixteen years he had spent in Africa. As
we entered a village one afternoon, not a man was to be seen; but
some women were drinking beer under a tree. In a few moments the
native doctor, one of the innocents, "nobody's enemy but his own,"
staggered out of a hut, with his cupping-horn dangling from his neck,
and began to scold us for a breach of etiquette. "Is this the way to
come into a man's village, without sending him word that you are
coming?" Our men soon pacified the fuddled but good-humoured medico,
who, entering his beer-cellar, called on two of them to help him to
carry out a huge pot of beer, which he generously presented to us.
While the "medical practitioner" was thus hospitably employed, the
chief awoke in a fright, and shouted to the women to run away, or
they would all be killed. The ladies laughed at the idea of their
being able to run away, and remained beside the beer-pots. We
selected a spot for our camp, our men cooked the dinner as usual, and
we were quietly eating it, when scores of armed men, streaming with
perspiration, came pouring into the village. They looked at us, then
at each other, and turning to the chief upbraided him for so
needlessly sending for them. "These people are peaceable; they do
not hurt you; you are killed with beer:" so saying, they returned to
their homes.
Native beer has a pinkish colour, and the consistency of gruel. The
grain is made to vegetate, dried in the sun, pounded into meal, and
gently boiled. When only a day or two old, the beer is sweet, with a
slight degree of acidity, which renders it a most grateful beverage
in a hot climate, or when fever begets a sore craving for acid
drinks. A single draught of it satisfies this craving at once. Only
by deep and long-continued potations can intoxication be produced:
the grain being in a minutely divided state, it is a good way of
consuming it, and the decoction is very nutritious. At Tette a
measure of beer is exchanged for an equal-sized pot full of grain. A
present of this beer, so refreshing to our dark comrades, was brought
to us in nearly every village. Beer-drinking does not appear to
produce any disease, or to shorten life on the hills. Never before
did we see so many old, grey-headed men and women; leaning on their
staves they came with the others to see the white men. The aged
chief, Muata Manga, could hardly have been less than ninety years of
age; his venerable appearance struck the Makololo. "He is an old
man," said they, "a very old man; his skin hangs in wrinkles, just
like that on elephants' hips." "Did you never," he was asked, "have
a fit of travelling come over you; a desire to see other lands and
people?" No, he had never felt that, and had never been far from
home in his life. For long life they are not indebted to frequent
ablutions. An old man told us that he remembered to have washed once
in his life, but it was so long since that he had forgotten how it
felt. "Why do you wash?" asked Chinsunse's women of the Makololo;
"our men never do."
The superstitious ordeal, by drinking the poisonous muave, obtains
credit here; and when a person is suspected of crime, this ordeal is
resorted to. If the stomach rejects the poison, the accused is
pronounced innocent; but if it is retained, guilt is believed to be
demonstrated. Their faith is so firm in its discriminating power,
that the supposed criminal offers of his own accord to drink it, and
even chiefs are not exempted. Chibisa, relying on its efficacy,
drank it several times, in order to vindicate his character. When
asserting that all his wars had been just, it was hinted that, as
every chief had the same tale of innocence to tell, we ought to
suspend our judgment. "If you doubt my word," said he, "give me the
muave to drink." A chief at the foot of Mount Zomba successfully
went through the ordeal the day we reached his village; and his
people manifested their joy at his deliverance by drinking beer,
dancing, and drumming for two days and nights. It is possible that
the native doctor, who mixes the ingredients of the poisoned bowl,
may be able to save those whom he considers innocent; but it is
difficult to get the natives to speak about the matter, and no one is
willing to tell what the muave poison consists of. We have been
shown trees said to be used, but had always reason to doubt the
accuracy of our informants. We once found a tree in a village, with
many pieces of the bark chipped off, closely allied to the Tangena or
Tanghina, the ordeal poison tree of Madagascar; but we could not
ascertain any particulars about it. Death is inflicted on those
found guilty of witchcraft, by the muave.
The women wail for the dead two days. Seated on the ground they
chant a few plaintive words, and end each verse with the prolonged
sound of a-a, or o-o, or ea-ea-ea--a. Whatever beer is in the house
of the deceased, is poured out on the ground with the meal, and all
cooking and water pots are broken, as being of no further use. Both
men and women wear signs of mourning for their dead relatives. These
consist of narrow strips of the palm-leaf wound round the head, the
arms, legs, neck, and breasts, and worn till they drop off from
decay. They believe in the existence of a supreme being, called
Mpambe, and also Morungo, and in a future state. "We live only a few
days here," said old Chinsunse, "but we live again after death: we
do not know where, or in what condition, or with what companions, for
the dead never return to tell us. Sometimes the dead do come back,
and appear to us in dreams; but they never speak nor tell us where
they have gone, nor how they fare."
CHAPTER IV.
The Upper Shire--Discovery of Lake Nyassa--Distressing exploration--
Return to Zambesi--Unpleasant visitors--Start for Sekeletu's Country
in the interior.
Our path followed the Shire above the cataracts, which is now a broad
deep river, with but little current. It expands in one place into a
lakelet, called Pamalombe, full of fine fish, and ten or twelve miles
long by five or six in breadth. Its banks are low, and a dense wall
of papyrus encircles it. On its western shore rises a range of hills
running north. On reaching the village of the chief Muana-Moesi, and
about a day's march distant from Nyassa, we were told that no lake
had ever been heard of there; that the River Shire stretched on as we
saw it now to a distance of "two months," and then came out from
between perpendicular rocks, which towered almost to the skies. Our
men looked blank at this piece of news, and said, "Let us go back to
the ship, it is of no use trying to find the lake." "We shall go and
see those wonderful rocks at any rate," said the Doctor. "And when
you see them," replied Masakasa, "you will just want to see something
else. But there IS a lake," rejoined Masakasa, "for all their
denying it, for it is down in a book." Masakasa, having unbounded
faith in whatever was in a book, went and scolded the natives for
telling him an untruth. "There is a lake," said he, "for how could
the white men know about it in a book if it did not exist?" They
then admitted that there was a lake a few miles off. Subsequent
inquiries make it probable that the story of the "perpendicular
rocks" may have had reference to a fissure, known to both natives and
Arabs, in the north-eastern portion of the lake. The walls rise so
high that the path along the bottom is said to be underground. It is
probably a crack similar to that which made the Victoria Falls, and
formed the Shire Valley.
The chief brought a small present of meal in the evening, and sat
with us for a few minutes. On leaving us he said that he wished we
might sleep well. Scarce had he gone, when a wild sad cry arose from
the river, followed by the shrieking of women. A crocodile had
carried off his principal wife, as she was bathing. The Makololo
snatched up their arms, and rushed to the bank, but it was too late,
she was gone. The wailing of the women continued all night, and next
morning we met others coming to the village to join in the general
mourning. Their grief was evidently heartfelt, as we saw the tears
coursing down their cheeks. In reporting this misfortune to his
neighbours, Muana-Moesi said, "that white men came to his village;
washed themselves at the place where his wife drew water and bathed;
rubbed themselves with a white medicine (soap); and his wife, having
gone to bathe afterwards, was taken by a crocodile; he did not know
whether in consequence of the medicine used or not." This we could
not find fault with. On our return we were viewed with awe, and all
the men fled at our approach; the women remained; and this elicited
the remark from our men, "The women have the advantage of men, in not
needing to dread the spear." The practice of bathing, which our
first contact with Chinsunse's people led us to believe was unknown
to the natives, we afterwards found to be common in other parts of
the Manganja country.
We discovered Lake Nyassa a little before noon of the 16th September,
1859. Its southern end is in 14 degrees 25 minutes S. Lat., and 35
degrees 30 minutes E. Long. At this point the valley is about twelve
miles wide. There are hills on both sides of the lake, but the haze
from burning grass prevented us at the time from seeing far. A long
time after our return from Nyassa, we received a letter from Captain
R. B. Oldfield, R.N., then commanding H.M.S. "Lyra," with the
information that Dr. Roscher, an enterprising German who
unfortunately lost his life in his zeal for exploration, had also
reached the Lake, but on the 19th November following our discovery;
and on his arrival had been informed by the natives that a party of
white men were at the southern extremity. On comparing dates (16th
September and 19th November) we were about two months before Dr.
Roscher.
It is not known where Dr. Roscher first saw its waters; as the exact
position of Nusseewa on the borders of the Lake, where he lived some
time, is unknown. He was three days north-east of Nusseewa, and on
the Arab road back to the usual crossing-place of the Rovuma, when he
was murdered. The murderers were seized by one of the chiefs, sent
to Zanzibar, and executed. He is said to have kept his discoveries
to himself, with the intention of publishing in Europe the whole at
once, in a splendid book of travels.
The chief of the village near the confluence of the Lake and River
Shire, an old man, called Mosauka, hearing that we were sitting under
a tree, came and kindly invited us to his village. He took us to a
magnificent banyan-tree, of which he seemed proud. The roots had
been trained down to the ground into the form of a gigantic arm-
chair, without the seat. Four of us slept in the space betwixt its
arms. Mosauka brought us a present of a goat and basket of meal "to
comfort our hearts." He told us that a large slave party, led by
Arabs, were encamped close by. They had been up to Cazembe's country
the past year, and were on their way back, with plenty of slaves,
ivory, and malachite. In a few minutes half a dozen of the leaders
came over to see us. They were armed with long muskets, and, to our
mind, were a villanous-looking lot. They evidently thought the same
of us, for they offered several young children for sale, but, when
told that we were English, showed signs of fear, and decamped during
the night. On our return to the Kongone, we found that H.M.S. "Lynx"
had caught some of these very slaves in a dhow; for a woman told us
she first saw us at Mosauka's, and that the Arabs had fled for fear
of an UNCANNY sort of Basungu.
This is one of the great slave-paths from the interior, others cross
the Shire a little below, and some on the lake itself. We might have
released these slaves but did not know what to do with them
afterwards. On meeting men, led in slave-sticks, the Doctor had to
bear the reproaches of the Makololo, who never slave, "Ay, you call
us bad, but are we yellow-hearted, like these fellows--why won't you
let us choke them?" To liberate and leave them, would have done but
little good, as the people of the surrounding villages would soon
have seized them, and have sold them again into slavery. The
Manganja chiefs sell their own people, for we met Ajawa and slave-
dealers in several highland villages, who had certainly been
encouraged to come among them for slaves. The chiefs always seemed
ashamed of the traffic, and tried to excuse themselves. "We do not
sell many, and only those who have committed crimes." As a rule the
regular trade is supplied by the low and criminal classes, and hence
the ugliness of slaves. Others are probably sold besides criminals,
as on the accusation of witchcraft. Friendless orphans also
sometimes disappear suddenly, and no one inquires what has become of
them. The temptation to sell their people is peculiarly great, as
there is but little ivory on the hills, and often the chief has
nothing but human flesh with which to buy foreign goods. The Ajawa
offer cloth, brass rings, pottery, and sometimes handsome young
women, and agree to take the trouble of carrying off by night all
those whom the chief may point out to them. They give four yards of
cotton cloth for a man, three for a woman, and two for a boy or girl,
to be taken to the Portuguese at Mozambique, Iboe, and Quillimane.
The Manganja were more suspicious and less hospitable than the tribes
on the Zambesi. They were slow to believe that our object in coming
into their country was really what we professed it to be. They
naturally judge us by the motives which govern themselves. A chief
in the Upper Shire Valley, whose scared looks led our men to christen
him Kitlabolawa (I shall be killed), remarked that parties had come
before, with as plausible a story as ours, and, after a few days, had
jumped up and carried off a number of his people as slaves. We were
not allowed to enter some of the villages in the valley, nor would
the inhabitants even sell us food; Zimika's men, for instance, stood
at the entrance of the euphorbia hedge, and declared we should not
pass in. We sat down under a tree close by. A young fellow made an
angry oration, dancing from side to side with his bow and poisoned
arrows, and gesticulating fiercely in our faces. He was stopped in
the middle of his harangue by an old man, who ordered him to sit
down, and not talk to strangers in that way; he obeyed reluctantly,
scowling defiance, and thrusting out his large lips very
significantly. The women were observed leaving the village; and,
suspecting that mischief might ensue, we proceeded on our journey, to
the great disgust of our men. They were very angry with the natives
for their want of hospitality to strangers, and with us, because we
would not allow them to give "the things a thrashing." "This is what
comes of going with white men," they growled out; "had we been with
our own chief, we should have eaten their goats to-night, and had
some of themselves to carry the bundles for us to-morrow." On our
return by a path which left his village on our right, Zimika sent to
apologize, saying that "he was ill, and in another village at the
time; it was not by his orders we were sent away; his men did not
know that we were a party wishing the land to dwell in peace."
We were not able, when hastening back to the men left in the ship, to
remain in the villages belonging to this chief; but the people came
after us with things for sale, and invited us to stop, and spend the
night with them, urging, "Are we to have it said that white people
passed through our country and we did not see them?" We rested by a
rivulet to gratify these sight-seers. We appear to them to be red
rather than white; and, though light colour is admired among
themselves, our clothing renders us uncouth in aspect. Blue eyes
appear savage, and a red beard hideous. From the numbers of aged
persons we saw on the highlands, and the increase of mental and
physical vigour we experienced on our ascent from the lowlands, we
inferred that the climate was salubrious, and that our countrymen
might there enjoy good health, and also be of signal benefit, by
leading the multitude of industrious inhabitants to cultivate cotton,
buaze, sugar, and other valuable produce, to exchange for goods of
European manufacture; at the same time teaching them, by precept and
example, the great truths of our Holy Religion.
Our stay at the Lake was necessarily short. We had found that the
best plan for allaying any suspicions, that might arise in the minds
of a people accustomed only to slave-traders, was to pay a hasty
visit, and then leave for a while, and allow the conviction to form
among the people that, though our course of action was so different
from that of others, we were not dangerous, but rather disposed to be
friendly. We had also a party at the vessel, and any indiscretion on
their part might have proved fatal to the character of the
Expedition.
The trade of Cazembe and Katanga's country, and of other parts of the
interior, crosses Nyassa and the Shire, on its way to the Arab port,
Kilwa, and the Portuguese ports of Iboe and Mozambique. At present,
slaves, ivory, malachite, and copper ornaments, are the only articles
of commerce. According to information collected by Colonel Rigby at
Zanzibar, and from other sources, nearly all the slaves shipped from
the above-mentioned ports come from the Nyassa district. By means of
a small steamer, purchasing the ivory of the Lake and River above the
cataracts, which together have a shore-line of at least 600 miles,
the slave-trade in this quarter would be rendered unprofitable,--for
it is only by the ivory being carried by the slaves, that the latter
do not eat up all the profits of a trip. An influence would be
exerted over an enormous area of country, for the Mazitu about the
north end of the Lake will not allow slave-traders to pass round that
way through their country. They would be most efficient allies to
the English, and might themselves be benefited by more intercourse.
As things are now, the native traders in ivory and malachite have to
submit to heavy exactions; and if we could give them the same prices
which they at present get after carrying their merchandise 300 miles
beyond this to the Coast, it might induce them to return without
going further. It is only by cutting off the supplies in the
interior, that we can crush the slave-trade on the Coast. The plan
proposed would stop the slave-trade from the Zambesi on one side and
Kilwa on the other; and would leave, beyond this tract, only the
Portuguese port of Inhambane on the south, and a portion of the
Sultan of Zanzibar's dominion on the north, for our cruisers to look
after. The Lake people grow abundance of cotton for their own
consumption, and can sell it for a penny a pound or even less.
Water-carriage exists by the Shire and Zambesi all the way to
England, with the single exception of a portage of about thirty-five
miles past the Murchison Cataracts, along which a road of less than
forty miles could be made at a trifling expense; and it seems
feasible that a legitimate and thriving trade might, in a short time,
take the place of the present unlawful traffic.
Colonel Rigby, Captains Wilson, Oldfield, and Chapman, and all the
most intelligent officers on the Coast, were unanimous in the belief,
that one small vessel on the Lake would have decidedly more
influence, and do more good in suppressing the slave-trade, than half
a dozen men-of-war on the ocean. By judicious operations, therefore,
on a small scale inland, little expense would be incurred, and the
English slave-trade policy on the East would have the same fair
chance of success, as on the West Coast.
After a land-journey of forty days, we returned to the ship on the
6th of October, 1859, in a somewhat exhausted condition, arising more
from a sort of poisoning, than from the usual fatigue of travel. We
had taken a little mulligatawney paste, for making soup, in case of
want of time to cook other food. Late one afternoon, at the end of
an unusually long march, we reached Mikena, near the base of Mount
Njongone to the north of Zomba, and the cook was directed to use a
couple of spoonfuls of the paste; but, instead of doing so, he put in
the whole potful. The soup tasted rather hot, but we added boiled
rice to it, and, being very hungry, partook freely of it; and, in
consequence of the overdose, we were delayed several days in severe
suffering, and some of the party did not recover till after our
return to the ship. Our illness may partly have arisen from another
cause. One kind of cassava (Jatropha maligna) is known to be, in its
raw state, poisonous, but by boiling it carefully in two waters,
which must be thrown off, the poison is extracted and the cassava
rendered fit for food. The poisonous sort is easily known by raising
a bit of the bark of the root, and putting the tongue to it. A
bitter taste shows poison, but it is probable that even the sweet
kind contains an injurious principle. The sap, which, like that of
our potatoes, is injurious as an article of food, is used in the
"Pepper-pot" of the West Indies, under the name of "Cassereep," as a
perfect preservative of meat. This juice put into an earthen vessel
with a little water and Chili pepper is said to keep meat, that is
immersed in it, good for a great length of time; even for years. No
iron or steel must touch the mixture, or it will become sour. This
"Pepper-pot," of which we first heard from the late Archbishop
Whately, is a most economical meat-safe in a hot climate; any beef,
mutton, pork, or fowl that may be left at dinner, if put into the
mixture and a little fresh cassereep added, keeps perfectly, though
otherwise the heat of the climate or flies would spoil it. Our cook,
however, boiled the cassava root as he was in the habit of cooking
meat, namely, by filling the pot with it, and then pouring in water,
which he allowed to stand on the fire until it had become absorbed
and boiled away. This method did not expel the poisonous properties
of the root, or render it wholesome; for, notwithstanding our
systematic caution in purchasing only the harmless sort, we suffered
daily from its effects, and it was only just before the end of our
trip that this pernicious mode of boiling it was discovered by us.
In ascending 3000 feet from the lowlands to the highlands, or on
reaching the low valley of the Shire from the higher grounds, the
change of climate was very marked. The heat was oppressive below,
the thermometer standing at from 84 degrees to 103 degrees in the
shade; and our spirits were as dull and languid as they had been
exhilarated on the heights in a temperature cooler by some 20
degrees. The water of the river was sometimes 84 degrees or higher,
whilst that we had been drinking in the hill streams was only 65
degrees.
It was found necessary to send two of our number across from the
Shire to Tette; and Dr. Kirk, with guides from Chibisa, and
accompanied by Mr. Rae, the engineer, accomplished the journey. We
had found the country to the north and east so very well watered,
that no difficulty was anticipated in this respect in a march of less
than a hundred miles; but on this occasion our friends suffered
severely. The little water to be had at this time of the year, by
digging in the beds of dry watercourses, was so brackish as to
increase thirst--some of the natives indeed were making salt from it;
and when at long intervals a less brackish supply was found, it was
nauseous and muddy from the frequent visits of large game. The
tsetse abounded. The country was level, and large tracts of it
covered with mopane forest, the leaves of which afford but scanty
shade to the baked earth, so that scarcely any grass grows upon it.
The sun was so hot, that the men frequently jumped from the path, in
the vain hope of cooling, for a moment, their scorched feet under the
almost shadeless bushes; and the native who carried the provision of
salt pork got lost, and came into Tette two days after the rest of
the party, with nothing but the fibre of the meat left, the fat,
melted by the blazing sun, having all run down his back. This path
was soon made a highway for slaving parties by Captain Raposo, the
Commandant. The journey nearly killed our two active young friends;
and what the slaves must have since suffered on it no one can
conceive; but slaving probably can never be conducted without
enormous suffering and loss of life.
Mankokwe now sent a message to say that he wished us to stop at his
village on our way down. He came on board on our arrival there with
a handsome present, and said that his young people had dissuaded him
from visiting us before; but now he was determined to see what every
one else was seeing. A bald square-headed man, who had been his
Prime Minister when we came up, was now out of office, and another
old man, who had taken his place accompanied the chief. In passing
the Elephant Marsh, we saw nine large herds of elephants; they
sometimes formed a line two miles long.
On the 2nd of November we anchored off Shamoara, and sent the boat to
Senna for biscuit and other provisions. Senhor Ferrao, with his
wonted generosity, gave us a present of a bullock, which he sent to
us in a canoe. Wishing to know if a second bullock would be
acceptable to us, he consulted his Portuguese and English dictionary,
and asked the sailor in charge if he would take ANOTHER; but Jack,
mistaking the Portuguese pronunciation of the letter h, replied, "Oh
no, sir, thank you, I don't want an OTTER in the boat, they are such
terrible biters!"
We had to ground the vessel on a shallow sandbank every night; she
leaked so fast, that in deep water she would have sunk, and the pump
had to be worked all day to keep her afloat. Heavy rains fell daily,
producing the usual injurious effects in the cabin; and, unable to
wait any longer for our associates, who had gone overland from the
Shire to Tette, we ran down the Kongone and beached her for repairs.
Her Majesty's ship "Lynx," Lieut. Berkeley commanding, called shortly
afterwards with supplies; the bar, which had been perfectly smooth
for some time before, became rather rough just before her arrival, so
that it was two or three days before she could communicate with us.
Two of her boats tried to come in on the second day, and one of them,
mistaking the passage, capsized in the heavy breakers abreast of the
island. Mr. Hunt, gunner, the officer in charge of the second boat,
behaved nobly, and by his skilful and gallant conduct succeeded in
rescuing every one of the first boat's crew. Of course the things
that they were bringing to us were lost, but we were thankful that
all the men were saved. The loss of the mail-bags, containing
Government despatches and our friends' letters for the past year, was
felt severely, as we were on the point of starting on an expedition
into the interior, which might require eight or nine months; and
twenty months is a weary time to be without news of friends and
family. In the repairing of our crazy craft, we received kind and
efficient aid from Lieutenant Berkeley, and we were enabled to leave
for Tette on December 16th.
We had now frequent rains, and the river rose considerably; our
progress up the stream was distressingly slow, and it was not until
the 2nd of February, 1860, that we reached Tette. Mr. Thornton
returned on the same day from a geological tour, by which some
Portuguese expected that a fabulous silver-mine would be
rediscovered. The tradition in the country is, that the Jesuits
formerly knew and worked a precious lode at Chicova. Mr. Thornton
had gone beyond Zumbo, in company with a trader of colour; he soon
after this left the Zambesi and, joining the expedition of the Baron
van der Decken, explored the snow mountain Kilimanjaro, north-west of
Zanzibar. Mr. Thornton's companion, the trader, brought back much
ivory, having found it both abundant and cheap. He was obliged,
however, to pay heavy fines to the Banyai and other tribes, in the
country which is coolly claimed in Europe as Portuguese. During this
trip of six mouths 200 pieces of cotton cloth of sixteen yards each,
besides beads and brass wire, were paid to the different chiefs, for
leave to pass through their country. In addition to these
sufficiently weighty exactions, the natives of THIS DOMINION have got
into the habit of imposing fines for alleged milandos, or crimes,
which the traders' men may have unwittingly committed. The
merchants, however, submit rather than run the risk of fighting.
The general monotony of existence at Tette is sometimes relieved by
an occasional death or wedding. When the deceased is a person of
consequence, the quantity of gunpowder his slaves are allowed to
expend is enormous. The expense may, in proportion to their means,
resemble that incurred by foolishly gaudy funerals in England. When
at Tette, we always joined with sympathizing hearts in aiding, by our
presence at the last rites, to soothe the sorrows of the surviving
relatives. We are sure that they would have done the same to us had
we been the mourners. We never had to complain of want of
hospitality. Indeed, the great kindness shown by many of whom we
have often spoken, will never be effaced from our memory till our
dying day. When we speak of their failings it is in sorrow, not in
anger. Their trading in slaves is an enormous mistake. Their
Government places them in a false position by cutting them off from
the rest of the world; and of this they always speak with a
bitterness which, were it heard, might alter the tone of the
statesmen of Lisbon. But here there is no press, no booksellers'
shops, and scarcely a schoolmaster. Had we been born in similar
untoward circumstances--we tremble to think of it!
The weddings are celebrated with as much jollity as weddings are
anywhere. We witnessed one in the house of our friend the Padre. It
being the marriage of his goddaughter, he kindly invited us to be
partakers in his joy; and we there became acquainted with old Donna
Engenia, who was a married wife and had children, when the slaves
came from Cassange, before any of us were born. The whole merry-
making was marked by good taste amid propriety.
About the only interesting object in the vicinity of Tette is the
coal a few miles to the north. There, in the feeders of the stream
Revubue, it crops out in cliff sections. The seams are from four to
seven feet in thickness; one measured was found to be twenty-five
feet thick.
Learning that it would be difficult for our party to obtain food
beyond Kebrabasa before the new crop came in and knowing the
difficulty of hunting for so many men in the wet season, we decided
on deferring our departure for the interior until May, and in the
mean time to run down once more to the Kongone, in the hopes of
receiving letters and despatches from the man-of-war that was to call
in March. We left Tette on the 10th, and at Senna heard that our
lost mail had been picked up on the beach by natives, west of the
Milambe; carried to Quillimane, sent thence to Senna, and, passing us
somewhere on the river, on to Tette. At Shupanga the governor
informed us that it was a very large mail; no great comfort, seeing
it was away up the river.
Mosquitoes were excessively troublesome at the harbour, and
especially when a light breeze blew from the north over the
mangroves. We lived for several weeks in small huts, built by our
men. Those who did the hunting for the party always got wet, and
were attacked by fever, but generally recovered in time to be out
again before the meat was all consumed. No ship appearing, we
started off on the 15th of March, and stopped to wood on the Luabo,
near an encampment of hippopotamus hunters; our men heard again,
through them, of the canoe path from this place to Quillimane, but
they declined to point it out.
We found our friend Major Sicard at Mazaro with picks, shovels,
hurdles, and slaves, having come to build a fort and custom-house at
the Kongone. As we had no good reason to hide the harbour, but many
for its being made known, we supplied him with a chart of the
tortuous branches, which, running among the mangroves, perplex the
search; and with such directions as would enable him to find his way
down to the river. He had brought the relics of our fugitive mail,
and it was a disappointment to find that all had been lost, with the
exception of a bundle of old newspapers, two photographs, and three
letters, which had been written before we left England.
The distance from Mazaro, on the Zambesi side, to the Kwakwa at
Nterra, is about six miles, over a surprisingly rich dark soil. We
passed the night in the long shed, erected at Nterra, on the banks of
this river, for the use of travellers, who have often to wait several
days for canoes; we tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes and rats were
so troublesome as to render sleep impossible. The rats, or rather
large mice, closely resembling Mus pumilio (Smith), of this region,
are quite facetious, and, having a great deal of fun in them, often
laugh heartily. Again and again they woke us up by scampering over
our faces, and then bursting into a loud laugh of He! he! he! at
having performed the feat. Their sense of the ludicrous appears to
be exquisite; they screamed with laughter at the attempts which
disturbed and angry human nature made in the dark to bring their ill-
timed merriment to a close. Unlike their prudent European cousins,
which are said to leave a sinking ship, a party of these took up
their quarters in our leaky and sinking vessel. Quiet and invisible
by day, they emerged at night, and cut their funny pranks. No sooner
were we all asleep, than they made a sudden dash over the lockers and
across our faces for the cabin door, where all broke out into a loud
He! he! he! he! he! he! showing how keenly they enjoyed the joke.
They next went forward with as much delight, and scampered over the
men. Every night they went fore and aft, rousing with impartial feet
every sleeper, and laughing to scorn the aimless blows, growls, and
deadly rushes of outraged humanity. We observed elsewhere a species
of large mouse, nearly allied to Euryotis unisulcatus (F. Cuvier),
escaping up a rough and not very upright wall, with six young ones
firmly attached to the perineum. They were old enough to be well
covered with hair, and some were not detached by a blow which
disabled the dam. We could not decide whether any involuntary
muscles were brought into play in helping the young to adhere. Their
weight seemed to require a sort of cataleptic state of the muscles of
the jaw, to enable them to hold on.
Scorpions, centipedes, and poisonous spiders also were not
unfrequently brought into the ship with the wood, and occasionally
found their way into our beds; but in every instance we were
fortunate enough to discover and destroy them before they did any
harm. Naval officers on this coast report that, when scorpions and
centipedes remain a few weeks after being taken on board in a similar
manner, their poison loses nearly all its virulence; but this we did
not verify. Snakes sometimes came in with the wood, but oftener
floated down the river to us, climbing on board with ease by the
chain-cable, and some poisonous ones were caught in the cabin. A
green snake lived with us several weeks, concealing himself behind
the casing of the deckhouse in the daytime. To be aroused in the
dark by five feet of cold green snake gliding over one's face is
rather unpleasant, however rapid the movement may be. Myriads of two
varieties of cockroaches infested the vessel; they not only ate round
the roots of our nails, but even devoured and defiled our food,
flannels, and boots. Vain were all our efforts to extirpate these
destructive pests; if you kill one, say the sailors, a hundred come
down to his funeral! In the work of Commodore Owen it is stated that
cockroaches, pounded into a paste, form a powerful carminative; this
has not been confirmed, but when monkeys are fed on them they are
sure to become lean.
On coming to Senna, we found that the Zulus had arrived in force for
their annual tribute. These men are under good discipline, and never
steal from the people. The tax is claimed on the ground of conquest,
the Zulus having formerly completely overcome the Senna people, and
chased them on to the islands in the Zambesi. Fifty-four of the
Portuguese were slain on the occasion, and, notwithstanding the mud
fort, the village has never recovered its former power. Fever was
now very prevalent, and most of the Portuguese were down with it.
For a good view of the adjacent scenery, the hill, Baramuana, behind
the village, was ascended. A caution was given about the probability
of an attack of fever from a plant that grows near the summit. Dr.
Kirk discovered it to be the Paedevia foetida, which, when smelt,
actually does give headache and fever. It has a nasty fetor, as its
name indicates. This is one instance in which fever and a foul smell
coincide. In a number of instances offensive effluvia and fever
seems to have no connection. Owing to the abundant rains, the crops
in the Senna district were plentiful; this was fortunate, after the
partial failure of the past two years. It was the 25th of April,
1860, before we reached Tette; here also the crops were luxuriant,
and the people said that they had not had such abundance since 1856,
the year when Dr. Livingstone came down the river. It is astonishing
to any one who has seen the works for irrigation in other countries,
as at the Cape and in Egypt, that no attempt has ever been made to
lead out the water either of the Zambesi or any of its tributaries;
no machinery has ever been used to raise it even from the stream, but
droughts and starvations are endured, as if they were inevitable
dispensations of Providence, incapable of being mitigated.
Feeling in honour bound to return with those who had been the
faithful companions of Dr. Livingstone, in 1856, and to whose
guardianship and services was due the accomplishment of a journey
which all the Portuguese at Tette had previously pronounced
impossible, the requisite steps were taken to convey them to their
homes.
We laid the ship alongside of the island Kanyimbe, opposite Tette;
and, before starting for the country of the Makololo, obtained a
small plot of land, to form a garden for the two English sailors who
were to remain in charge during our absence. We furnished them with
a supply of seeds, and they set to work with such zeal, that they
certainly merited success. Their first attempt at African
horticulture met with failure from a most unexpected source; every
seed was dug up and the inside of it eaten by mice. "Yes," said an
old native, next morning, on seeing the husks, "that is what happens
this month; for it is the mouse month, and the seed should have been
sown last mouth, when I sowed mine." The sailors, however, sowed
more next day; and, being determined to outwit the mice, they this
time covered the beds over with grass. The onions, with other seeds
of plants cultivated by the Portuguese, are usually planted in the
beginning of April, in order to have the advantage of the cold
season; the wheat a little later, for the same reason. If sown at
the beginning of the rainy season in November, it runs, as before
remarked, entirely to straw; but as the rains are nearly over in May,
advantage is taken of low-lying patches, which have been flooded by
the river. A hole is made in the mud with a hoe, a few seeds dropped
in, and the earth shoved back with the foot. If not favoured with
certain misty showers, which, lower down the river, are simply fogs,
water is borne from the river to the roots of the wheat in earthern
pots; and in about four months the crop is ready for the sickle. The
wheat of Tette is exported, as the best grown in the country; but a
hollow spot at Maruru, close by Mazaro, yielded very good crops,
though just at the level of the sea, as a few inches rise of tide
shows.
A number of days were spent in busy preparation for our journey; the
cloth, beads, and brass wire, for the trip were sewn up in old
canvas, and each package had the bearer's name printed on it. The
Makololo, who had worked for the Expedition, were paid for their
services, and every one who had come down with the Doctor from the
interior received a present of cloth and ornaments, in order to
protect them from the greater cold of their own country, and to show
that they had not come in vain. Though called Makololo by courtesy,
as they were proud of the name, Kanyata, the principal headman, was
the only real Makololo of the party; and he, in virtue of his birth,
had succeeded to the chief place on the death of Sekwebu. The others
belonged to the conquered tribes of the Batoka, Bashubia, Ba-Selea,
and Barotse. Some of these men had only added to their own vices
those of the Tette slaves; others, by toiling during the first two
years in navigating canoes, and hunting elephants, had often managed
to save a little, to take back to their own country, but had to part
with it all for food to support the rest in times of hunger, and,
latterly, had fallen into the improvident habits of slaves, and spent
their surplus earnings in beer and agua ardiente.
Everything being ready on the 15th of May, we started at 2 p.m. from
the village where the Makololo had dwelt. A number of the men did
not leave with the goodwill which their talk for months before had
led us to anticipate; but some proceeded upon being told that they
were not compelled to go unless they liked, though others altogether
declined moving. Many had taken up with slave-women, whom they
assisted in hoeing, and in consuming the produce of their gardens.
Some fourteen children had been born to them; and in consequence of
now having no chief to order them, or to claim their services, they
thought that they were about as well off as they had been in their
own country. They knew and regretted that they could call neither
wives nor children their own; the slave-owners claimed the whole; but
their natural affections had been so enchained, that they clave to
the domestic ties. By a law of Portugal the baptized children of
slave women are all free; by the custom of the Zambesi that law is
void. When it is referred to, the officers laugh and say, "These
Lisbon-born laws are very stringent, but somehow, possibly from the
heat of the climate, here they lose all their force." Only one woman
joined our party--the wife of a Batoka man: she had been given to
him, in consideration of his skilful dancing, by the chief, Chisaka.
A merchant sent three of his men along with us, with a present for
Sekeletu, and Major Sicard also lent us three more to assist us on
our return, and two Portuguese gentleman kindly gave us the loan of a
couple of donkeys. We slept four miles above Tette, and hearing that
the Banyai, who levy heavy fines on the Portuguese traders, lived
chiefly on the right bank, we crossed over to the left, as we could
not fully trust our men. If the Banyai had come in a threatening
manner, our followers might, perhaps, from having homes behind them,
have even put down their bundles and run. Indeed, two of them at
this point made up their minds to go no further, and turned back to
Tette. Another, Monga, a Batoka, was much perplexed, and could not
make out what course to pursue, as he had, three years previously,
wounded Kanyata, the headman, with a spear. This is a capital
offence among the Makololo, and he was afraid of being put to death
for it on his return. He tried, in vain, to console himself with the
facts that he had neither father, mother, sisters, nor brothers to
mourn for him, and that he could die but once. He was good, and
would go up to the stars to Yesu, and therefore did not care for
death. In spite, however, of these reflections, he was much cast
down, until Kanyata assured him that he would never mention his
misdeed to the chief; indeed, he had never even mentioned it to the
Doctor, which he would assuredly have done had it lain heavy on his
heart. We were right glad of Monga's company, for he was a merry
good-tempered fellow, and his lithe manly figure had always been in
the front in danger; and, from being left-handed, had been easily
recognized in the fight with elephants.
We commenced, for a certain number of days, with short marches,
walking gently until broken in to travel. This is of so much
importance, that it occurs to us that more might be made out of
soldiers if the first few days' marches were easy, and gradually
increased in length and quickness. The nights were cold, with heavy
dews and occasional showers, and we had several cases of fever. Some
of the men deserted every night, and we fully expected that all who
had children would prefer to return to Tette, for little ones are
well known to prove the strongest ties, even to slaves. It was
useless informing them, that if they wanted to return they had only
to come and tell us so; we should not be angry with them for
preferring Tette to their own country. Contact with slaves had
destroyed their sense of honour; they would not go in daylight, but
decamped in the night, only in one instance, however, taking our
goods, though, in two more, they carried off their comrades'
property. By the time we had got well into the Kebrabasa hills
thirty men, nearly a third of the party, had turned back, and it
became evident that, if many more left us, Sekeletu's goods could not
be carried up. At last, when the refuse had fallen away, no more
desertions took place.
Stopping one afternoon at a Kebrabasa village, a man, who pretended
to be able to change himself into a lion, came to salute us.
Smelling the gunpowder from a gun which had been discharged, he went
on one side to get out of the wind of the piece, trembling in a most
artistic manner, but quite overacting his part. The Makololo
explained to us that he was a Pondoro, or a man who can change his
form at will, and added that he trembles when he smells gunpowder.
"Do you not see how he is trembling now?" We told them to ask him to
change himself at once into a lion, and we would give him a cloth for
the performance. "Oh no," replied they; "if we tell him so, he may
change himself and come when we are asleep and kill us." Having
similar superstitions at home, they readily became as firm believers
in the Pondoro as the natives of the village. We were told that he
assumes the form of a lion and remains in the woods for days, and is
sometimes absent for a whole month. His considerate wife had built
him a hut or den, in which she places food and beer for her
transformed lord, whose metamorphosis does not impair his human
appetite. No one ever enters this hut except the Pondoro and his
wife, and no stranger is allowed even to rest his gun against the
baobab-tree beside it: the Mfumo, or petty chief, of another small
village wished to fine our men for placing their muskets against an
old tumble-down hut, it being that of the Pondoro. At times the
Pondoro employs his acquired powers in hunting for the benefit of the
village; and after an absence of a day or two, his wife smells the
lion, takes a certain medicine, places it in the forest, and there
quickly leaves it, lest the lion should kill even her. This medicine
enables the Pondoro to change himself back into a man, return to the
village, and say, "Go and get the game that I have killed for you."
Advantage is of course taken of what a lion has done, and they go and
bring home the buffalo or antelope killed when he was a lion, or
rather found when he was patiently pursuing his course of deception
in the forest. We saw the Pondoro of another village dressed in a
fantastic style, with numerous charms hung round him, and followed by
a troop of boys who were honouring him with rounds of shrill
cheering.
It is believed also that the souls of departed chiefs enter into
lions, and render them sacred. On one occasion, when we had shot a
buffalo in the path beyond the Kafue, a hungry lion, attracted
probably by the smell of the meat, came close to our camp, and roused
up all hands by his roaring. Tuba Mokoro, imbued with the popular
belief that the beast was a chief in disguise, scolded him roundly
during his brief intervals of silence. "You a chief, eh? You call
yourself a chief, do you? What kind of chief are you to come
sneaking about in the dark, trying to steal our buffalo meat! Are
you not ashamed of yourself? A pretty chief truly; you are like the
scavenger beetle, and think of yourself only. You have not the heart
of a chief; why don't you kill your own beef? You must have a stone
in your chest, and no heart at all, indeed!" Tuba Mokoro producing
no impression on the transformed chief, one of the men, the most
sedate of the party, who seldom spoke, took up the matter, and tried
the lion in another strain. In his slow quiet way he expostulated
with him on the impropriety of such conduct to strangers, who had
never injured him. "We were travelling peaceably through the country
back to our own chief. We never killed people, nor stole anything.
The buffalo meat was ours, not his, and it did not become a great
chief like him to be prowling round in the dark, trying, like a
hyena, to steal the meat of strangers. He might go and hunt for
himself, as there was plenty of game in the forest." The Pondoro,
being deaf to reason, and only roaring the louder, the men became
angry, and threatened to send a ball through him if he did not go
away. They snatched up their guns to shoot him, but he prudently
kept in the dark, outside the luminous circle made by our camp fires,
and there they did not like to venture. A little strychnine was put
into a piece of meat, and thrown to him, when he soon departed, and
we heard no more of the majestic sneaker.
The Kebrabasa people were now plumper and in better condition than on
our former visits; the harvest had been abundant; they had plenty to
eat and drink, and they were enjoying life as much as ever they
could. At Defwe's village, near where the ship lay on her first
ascent, we found two Mfumos or headmen, the son and son-in-law of the
former chief. A sister's son has much more chance of succeeding to a
chieftainship than the chief's own offspring, it being unquestionable
that the sister's child has the family blood. The men are all marked
across the nose and up the middle of the forehead with short
horizontal bars or cicatrices; and a single brass earring of two or
three inches diameter, like the ancient Egyptian, is worn by the men.
Some wear the hair long like the ancient Assyrians and Egyptians, and
a few have eyes with the downward and inward slant of the Chinese.
After fording the rapid Luia, we left our former path on the banks of
the Zambesi, and struck off in a N.W. direction behind one of the
hill ranges, the eastern end of which is called Mongwa, the name of
an acacia, having a peculiarly strong fetor, found on it. Our route
wound up a valley along a small mountain-stream which was nearly dry,
and then crossed the rocky spurs of some of the lofty hills. The
country was all very dry at the time, and no water was found except
in an occasional spring and a few wells dug in the beds of
watercourses. The people were poor, and always anxious to convince
travellers of the fact. The men, unlike those on the plains, spend a
good deal of their time in hunting; this may be because they have but
little ground on the hill-sides suitable for gardens, and but little
certainty of reaping what may be sown in the valleys. No women came
forward in the hamlet, east of Chiperiziwa, where we halted for the
night. Two shots had been fired at guinea-fowl a little way off in
the valley; the women fled into the woods, and the men came to know
if war was meant, and a few of the old folks only returned after
hearing that we were for peace. The headman, Kambira, apologized for
not having a present ready, and afterwards brought us some meal, a
roasted coney (Hyrax capensis), and a pot of beer; he wished to be
thought poor. The beer had come to him from a distance; he had none
of his own. Like the Manganja, these people salute by clapping their
hands. When a man comes to a place where others are seated, before
sitting down he claps his hands to each in succession, and they do
the same to him. If he has anything to tell, both speaker and hearer
clap their hands at the close of every paragraph, and then again
vigorously at the end of the speech. The guide, whom the headman
gave us, thus saluted each of his comrades before he started off with
us. There is so little difference in the language, that all the
tribes of this region are virtually of one family.
We proceeded still in the same direction, and passed only two small
hamlets during the day. Except the noise our men made on the march,
everything was still around us: few birds were seen. The appearance
of a whydahbird showed that he had not yet parted with his fine long
plumes. We passed immense quantities of ebony and lignum-vitae, and
the tree from whose smooth and bitter bark granaries are made for
corn. The country generally is clothed with a forest of ordinary-
sized trees. We slept in the little village near Sindabwe, where our
men contrived to purchase plenty of beer, and were uncommonly
boisterous all the evening. We breakfasted next morning under green
wild date-palms, beside the fine flowery stream, which runs through
the charming valley of Zibah. We now had Mount Chiperiziwa between
us, and part of the river near Morumbwa, having in fact come north
about in order to avoid the difficulties of our former path. The
last of the deserters, a reputed thief, took French leave of us here.
He left the bundle of cloth he was carrying in the path a hundred
yards in front of where we halted, but made off with the musket and
most of the brass rings and beads of his comrade Shirimba, who had
unsuspectingly intrusted them to his care.
Proceeding S.W. up this lovely valley, in about an hour's time we
reached Sandia's village. The chief was said to be absent hunting,
and they did not know when he would return. This is such a common
answer to the inquiry after a headman, that one is inclined to think
that it only means that they wish to know the stranger's object
before exposing their superior to danger. As some of our men were
ill, a halt was made here.
As we were unable to march next morning, six of our young men,
anxious to try their muskets, went off to hunt elephants. For
several hours they saw nothing, and some of them, getting tired,
proposed to go to a village and buy food. "No!" said Mantlanyane,
"we came to hunt, so let us go on." In a short time they fell in
with a herd of cow elephants and calves. As soon as the first cow
caught sight of the hunters on the rocks above her, she, with true
motherly instinct, placed her young one between her fore-legs for
protection. The men were for scattering, and firing into the herd
indiscriminately. "That won't do," cried Mantlanyane, "let us all
fire at this one." The poor beast received a volley, and ran down
into the plain, where another shot killed her; the young one escaped
with the herd. The men were wild with excitement, and danced round
the fallen queen of the forest, with loud shouts and exultant songs.
They returned, bearing as trophies the tail and part of the trunk,
and marched into camp as erect as soldiers, and evidently feeling
that their stature had increased considerably since the morning.
Sandia's wife was duly informed of their success, as here a law
decrees that half the elephant belongs to the chief on whose ground
it has been killed. The Portuguese traders always submit to this
tax, and, were it of native origin, it could hardly be considered
unjust. A chief must have some source of revenue; and, as many
chiefs can raise none except from ivory or slaves, this tax is more
free from objections than any other that a black Chancellor of the
Exchequer could devise. It seems, however, to have originated with
the Portuguese themselves, and then to have spread among the adjacent
tribes. The Governors look sharply after any elephant that may be
slain on the Crown lands, and demand one of the tusks from their
vassals. We did not find the law in operation in any tribe beyond
the range of Portuguese traders, or further than the sphere of travel
of those Arabs who imitated Portuguese customs in trade. At the
Kafue in 1855 the chiefs bought the meat we killed, and demanded
nothing as their due; and so it was up the Shire during our visits.
The slaves of the Portuguese, who are sent by their masters to shoot
elephants, probably connive at the extension of this law, for they
strive to get the good will of the chiefs to whose country they come,
by advising them to make a demand of half of each elephant killed,
and for this advice they are well paid in beer. When we found that
the Portuguese argued in favour of this law, we told the natives that
they might exact tusks from THEM, but that the English, being
different, preferred the pure native custom. It was this which made
Sandia, as afterwards mentioned, hesitate; but we did not care to
insist on exemption in our favour, where the prevalence of the custom
might have been held to justify the exaction.
The cutting up of an elephant is quite a unique spectacle. The men
stand remind the animal in dead silence, while the chief of the
travelling party declares that, according to ancient law, the head
and right hind-leg belong to him who killed the beast, that is, to
him who inflicted the first wound; the left leg to bins who delivered
the second, or first touched the animal after it fell. The meat
around the eye to the English, or chief of the travellers, and
different parts to the headmen of the different fires, or groups, of
which the camp is composed; not forgetting to enjoin the preservation
of the fat and bowels for a second distribution. This oration
finished, the natives soon become excited, and scream wildly as they
cut away at the carcass with a score of spears, whose long handles
quiver in the air above their heads. Their excitement becomes
momentarily more and more intense, and reaches the culminating point
when, as denoted by a roar of gas, the huge mass is laid fairly open.
Some jump inside, and roll about there in their eagerness to seize
the precious fat, while others run off, screaming, with pieces of the
bloody meat, throw it on the grass, and run back for more: all keep
talking and shouting at the utmost pitch of their voices. Sometimes
two or three, regardless of all laws, seize the same piece of meat,
and have a brief fight of words over it. Occasionally an agonized
yell bursts forth, and a native emerges out of the moving mass of
dead elephant and wriggling humanity, with his hand badly cut by the
spear of his excited friend and neighbour: this requires a rag and
some soothing words to prevent bad blood. In an incredibly short
time tons of meat are cut up, and placed in separate heaps around.
Sandia arrived soon after the beast was divided: he is an elderly
man, and wears a wig made of "ife" fibre (sanseviera) dyed black, and
of a fine glossy appearance. This plant is allied to the aloes, and
its thick fleshy leaves, in shape somewhat like our sedges, when
bruised yield much fine strong fibre, which is made into ropes, nets,
and wigs. It takes dyes readily, and the fibre might form a good
article of commerce. "Ife" wigs, as we afterwards saw, are not
uncommon in this country, though perhaps not so common as hair wigs
at home. Sandia's mosamela, or small carved wooden pillow, exactly
resembling the ancient Egyptian one, was hung from the back of his
neck; this pillow and a sleeping mat are usually carried by natives
when on hunting excursions.
We had the elephant's fore-foot cooked for ourselves, in native
fashion. A large hole was dug in the ground, in which a fire was
made; and, when the inside was thoroughly heated, the entire foot was
placed in it, and covered over with the hot ashes and soil; another
fire was made above the whole, and kept burning all night. We had
the foot thus cooked for breakfast next morning, and found it
delicious. It is a whitish mass, slightly gelatinous, and sweet,
like marrow. A long march, to prevent biliousness, is a wise
precaution after a meal of elephant's foot. Elephant's trunk and
tongue are also good, and, after long simmering, much resemble the
hump of a buffalo and the tongue of an ox; but all the other meat is
tough, and, from its peculiar flavour, only to be eaten by a hungry
man. The quantities of meat our men devour is quite astounding.
They boil as much as their pots will hold, and eat till it becomes
physically impossible for them to stow away any more. An uproarious
dance follows, accompanied with stentorian song; and as soon as they
have shaken their first course down, and washed off the sweat and
dust of the after performance, they go to work to roast more: a
short snatch of sleep succeeds, and they are up and at it again; all
night long it is boil and eat, roast and devour, with a few brief
interludes of sleep. Like other carnivora, these men can endure
hunger for a much longer period than the mere porridge-eating tribes.
Our men can cook meat as well as any reasonable traveller could
desire; and, boiled in earthen pots, like Indian chatties, it tastes
much better than when cooked in iron ones.
CHAPTER V.
Magnificent scenery--Method of marching--Hippopotamus killed--Lions
and buffalo--Sequasha the ivory-trader.
Sandia gave us two guides; and on the 4th of June we left the
Elephant valley, taking a westerly course; and, after crossing a few
ridges, entered the Chingerere or Paguruguru valley, through which,
in the rainy season, runs the streamlet Pajodze. The mountains on
our left, between us and the Zambesi, our guides told us have the
same name as the valley, but that at the confluence of the Pajodze is
called Morumbwa. We struck the river at less than half a mile to the
north of the cataract Morumbwa. On climbing up the base of this
mountain at Pajodze, we found that we were distant only the diameter
of the mountain from the cataract. In measuring the cataract we
formerly stood on its southern flank; now we were perched on its
northern flank, and at once recognized the onion-shaped mountain,
here called Zakavuma, whose smooth convex surface overlooks the
broken water. Its bearing by compass was l80 degrees from the spot
to which we had climbed, and 700 or 800 yards distant. We now, from
this standing-point, therefore, completed our inspection of all
Kebrabasa, and saw what, as a whole, was never before seen by
Europeans so far as any records show.
The remainder of the Kebrabasa path, on to Chicova, was close to the
compressed and rocky river. Ranges of lofty tree-covered mountains,
with deep narrow valleys, in which are dry watercourses, or flowing
rivulets, stretch from the north-west, and are prolonged on the
opposite side of the river in a south-easterly direction. Looking
back, the mountain scenery in Kebrabasa was magnificent; conspicuous
from their form and steep sides, are the two gigantic portals of the
cataract; the vast forests still wore their many brilliant autumnal-
coloured tints of green, yellow, red, purple, and brown, thrown into
relief by the grey bark of the trunks in the background. Among these
variegated trees were some conspicuous for their new livery of fresh
light-green leaves, as though the winter of others was their spring.
The bright sunshine in these mountain forests, and the ever-changing
forms of the cloud shadows, gliding over portions of the surface,
added fresh charms to scenes already surpassingly beautiful.
From what we have seen of the Kebrabasa rocks and rapids, it appears
too evident that they must always form a barrier to navigation at the
ordinary low water of the river; but the rise of the water in this
gorge being as much as eighty feet perpendicularly, it is probable
that a steamer might be taken up at high flood, when all the rapids
are smoothed over, to run on the Upper Zambesi. The most formidable
cataract in it, Morumbwa, has only about twenty feet of fall, in a
distance of thirty yards, and it must entirely disappear when the
water stands eighty feet higher. Those of the Makololo who worked on
board the ship were not sorry at the steamer being left below, as
they had become heartily tired of cutting the wood that the
insatiable furnace of the "Asthmatic" required. Mbia, who was a bit
of a wag, laughingly exclaimed in broken English, "Oh, Kebrabasa
good, very good; no let shippee up to Sekeletu, too muchee work,
cuttee woodyee, cuttee woodyee: Kebrabasa good." It is currently
reported, and commonly believed, that once upon a time a Portuguese
named Jose Pedra,--by the natives called Nyamatimbira,--chief, or
capitao mor, of Zumbo, a man of large enterprise and small humanity,-
-being anxious to ascertain if Kebrabasa could be navigated, made two
slaves fast to a canoe, and launched it from Chicova into Kebrabasa,
in order to see if it would come out at the other end. As neither
slaves nor canoe ever appeared again, his Excellency concluded that
Kebrabasa was unnavigable. A trader had a large canoe swept away by
a sudden rise of the river, and it was found without damage below;
but the most satisfactory information was that of old Sandia, who
asserted that in flood all Kebrabasa became quite smooth, and he had
often seen it so.
We emerged from the thirty-five or forty miles of Kebrabasa hills
into the Chicova plains on the 7th of June, 1860, having made short
marches all the way. The cold nights caused some of our men to cough
badly, and colds in this country almost invariably become fever. The
Zambesi suddenly expands at Chicova, and assumes the size and
appearance it has at Tette. Near this point we found a large seam of
coal exposed in the left bank.
We met with native travellers occasionally. Those on a long journey
carry with them a sleeping-mat and wooden pillow, cooking-pot and bag
of meal, pipe and tobacco-pouch, a knife, bow, and arrows, and two
small sticks, of from two to three feet in length, for making fire,
when obliged to sleep away from human habitations. Dry wood is
always abundant, and they get fire by the following method. A notch
is cut in one of the sticks, which, with a close-grained outside, has
a small core of pith, and this notched stick is laid horizontally on
a knife-blade on the ground; the operator squatting, places his great
toes on each end to keep all steady, and taking the other wand which
is of very hard wood cut to a blunt point, fits it into the notch at
right angles; the upright wand is made to spin rapidly backwards and
forwards between the palms of the hands, drill fashion, and at the
same time is pressed downwards; the friction, in the course of a
minute or so, ignites portions of the pith of the notched stick,
which, rolling over like live charcoal on to the knife-blade, are
lifted into a handful of fine dry grass, and carefully blown, by
waving backwards and forwards in the air. It is hard work for the
hands to procure fire by this process, as the vigorous drilling and
downward pressure requisite soon blister soft palms.
Having now entered a country where lions were numerous, our men began
to pay greater attention to the arrangements of the camp at night.
As they are accustomed to do with their chiefs, they place the white
men in the centre; Kanyata, his men, and the two donkeys, camp on our
right; Tuba Mokoro's party of Bashubia are in front; Masakasa, and
Sininyane's body of Batoka, on the left; and in the rear six Tette
men have their fires. In placing their fires they are careful to put
them where the smoke will not blow in our faces. Soon after we halt,
the spot for the English is selected, and all regulate their places
accordingly, and deposit their burdens. The men take it by turns to
cut some of the tall dry grass, and spread it for our beds on a spot,
either naturally level, or smoothed by the hoe; some, appointed to
carry our bedding, then bring our rugs and karosses, and place the
three rugs in a row on the grass; Dr. Livingstone's being in the
middle, Dr. Kirk's on the right, and Charles Livingstone's on the
left. Our bags, rifles, and revolvers are carefully placed at our
heads, and a fire made near our feet. We have no tent nor covering
of any kind except the branches of the tree under which we may happen
to lie; and it is a pretty sight to look up and see every branch,
leaf, and twig of the tree stand out, reflected against the clear
star-spangled and moonlit sky. The stars of the first magnitude have
names which convey the same meaning over very wide tracts of country.
Here when Venus comes out in the evenings, she is called Ntanda, the
eldest or first-born, and Manjika, the first-born of morning, at
other times: she has so much radiance when shining alone, that she
casts a shadow. Sirius is named Kuewa usiko, "drawer of night,"
because supposed to draw the whole night after it. The moon has no
evil influence in this country, so far as we know. We have lain and
looked up at her, till sweet sleep closed our eyes, unharmed. Four
or five of our men were affected with moon-blindness at Tette; though
they had not slept out of doors there, they became so blind that
their comrades had to guide their hands to the general dish of food;
the affection is unknown in their own country. When our posterity
shall have discovered what it is which, distinct from foul smells,
causes fever, and what, apart from the moon, causes men to be moon-
struck, they will pity our dulness of perception.
The men cut a very small quantity of grass for themselves, and sleep
in fumbas or sleeping-bags, which are double mats of palm-leaf, six
feet long by four wide, and sewn together round three parts of the
square, and left open only on one side. They are used as a
protection from the cold, wet, and mosquitoes, and are entered as we
should get into our beds, were the blankets nailed to the top,
bottom, and one side of the bedstead.
A dozen fires are nightly kindled in the camp; and these, being
replenished from time to time by the men who are awakened by the
cold, are kept burning until daylight. Abundance of dry hard wood is
obtained with little trouble; and burns beautifully. After the great
business of cooking and eating is over, all sit round the camp-fires,
and engage in talking or singing. Every evening one of the Batoka
plays his "sansa," and continues at it until far into the night; he
accompanies it with an extempore song, in which he rehearses their
deeds ever since they left their own country. At times animated
political discussions spring up, and the amount of eloquence expended
on these occasions is amazing. The whole camp is aroused, and the
men shout to one another from the different fires; whilst some, whose
tongues are never heard on any other subject, burst forth into
impassioned speech.
As a specimen of our mode of marching, we rise about five, or as soon
as dawn appears, take a cup of tea and a bit of biscuit; the servants
fold up the blankets and stow them away in the bags they carry; the
others tie their fumbas and cooking-pots to each end of their
carrying-sticks, which are borne on the shoulder; the cook secures
the dishes, and all are on the path by sunrise. If a convenient spot
can be found we halt for breakfast about nine a.m. To save time,
this meal is generally cooked the night before, and has only to be
warmed. We continue the march after breakfast, rest a little in the
middle of the day, and break off early in the afternoon. We average
from two to two-and-a-half miles an hour in a straight line, or as
the crow flies, and seldom have more than five or six hours a day of
actual travel. This in a hot climate is as much as a man can
accomplish without being oppressed; and we always tried to make our
progress more a pleasure than a toil. To hurry over the ground,
abuse, and look ferocious at one's native companions, merely for the
foolish vanity of boasting how quickly a distance was accomplished,
is a combination of silliness with absurdity quite odious; while
kindly consideration for the feelings of even blacks, the pleasure of
observing scenery and everything new as one moves on at an ordinary
pace, and the participation in the most delicious rest with our
fellows, render travelling delightful. Though not given to over
haste, we were a little surprised to find that we could tire our men
out; and even the headman, who carried but little more than we did,
and never, as we often had to do, hunted in the afternoon, was no
better than his comrades. Our experience tends to prove that the
European constitution has a power of endurance, even in the tropics,
greater than that of the hardiest of the meat-eating Africans.
After pitching our camp, one or two of us usually go off to hunt,
more as a matter of necessity than of pleasure, for the men, as well
as ourselves, must have meat. We prefer to take a man with us to
carry home the game, or lead the others to where it lies; but as they
frequently grumble and complain of being tired, we do not
particularly object to going alone, except that it involves the extra
labour of our making a second trip to show the men where the animal
that has been shot is to be found. When it is a couple of miles off
it is rather fatiguing to have to go twice; more especially on the
days when it is solely to supply their wants that, instead of resting
ourselves, we go at all. Like those who perform benevolent deeds at
home, the tired hunter, though trying hard to live in charity with
all men, is strongly tempted to give it up by bringing only
sufficient meat for the three whites and leaving the rest; thus
sending the "idle ungrateful poor" supperless to bed. And yet it is
only by continuance in well-doing, even to the length of what the
worldly-wise call weakness, that the conviction is produced anywhere,
that our motives are high enough to secure sincere respect.
A jungle of mimosa, ebony, and "wait-a-bit" thorn lies between the
Chicova flats and the cultivated plain, on which stand the villages
of the chief, Chitora. He brought us a present of food and drink,
because, as he, with the innate politeness of an African, said, he
"did not wish us to sleep hungry: he had heard of the Doctor when he
passed down, and had a great desire to see and converse with him; but
he was a child then, and could not speak in the presence of great
men. He was glad that he had seen the English now, and was sorry
that his people were away, or he should have made them cook for us."
All his subsequent conduct showed him to be sincere.
Many of the African women are particular about the water they use for
drinking and cooking, and prefer that which is filtered through sand.
To secure this, they scrape holes in the sandbanks beside the stream,
and scoop up the water, which slowly filters through, rather than
take it from the equally clear and limpid river. This practice is
common in the Zambesi, the Rovuma, and Lake Nyassa; and some of the
Portuguese at Tette have adopted the native custom, and send canoes
to a low island in the middle of the river for water. Chitora's
people also obtained their supply from shallow wells in the sandy bed
of a small rivulet close to the village. The habit may have arisen
from observing the unhealthiness of the main stream at certain
seasons. During nearly nine months in the year, ordure is deposited
around countless villages along the thousands of miles drained by the
Zambesi. When the heavy rains come down, and sweep the vast fetid
accumulation into the torrents, the water is polluted with filth;
and, but for the precaution mentioned, the natives would prove
themselves as little fastidious as those in London who drink the
abomination poured into the Thames by Reading and Oxford. It is no
wonder that sailors suffered so much from fever after drinking
African river water, before the present admirable system of
condensing it was adopted in our navy.
The scent of man is excessively terrible to game of all kinds, much
more so, probably, than the sight of him. A herd of antelopes, a
hundred yards off, gazed at us as we moved along the winding path,
and timidly stood their ground until half our line had passed, but
darted off the instant they "got the wind," or caught the flavour of
those who had gone by. The sport is all up with the hunter who gets
to the windward of the African beast, as it cannot stand even the
distant aroma of the human race, so much dreaded by all wild animals.
Is this the fear and the dread of man, which the Almighty said to
Noah was to be upon every beast of the field? A lion may, while
lying in wait for his prey, leap on a human being as he would on any
other animal, save a rhinoceros or an elephant, that happened to
pass; or a lioness, when she has cubs, might attack a man, who,
passing "up the wind of her," had unconsciously, by his scent,
alarmed her for the safety of her whelps; or buffaloes, amid other
animals, might rush at a line of travellers, in apprehension of being
surrounded by them; but neither beast nor snake will, as a general
rule, turn on man except when wounded, or by mistake. If gorillas,
unwounded, advance to do battle with him, and beat their breasts in
defiance, they are an exception to all wild beasts known to us. From
the way an elephant runs at the first glance of man, it is inferred
that this huge brute, though really king of beasts, would run even
from a child.
Our two donkeys caused as much admiration as the three white men.
Great was the astonishment when one of the donkeys began to bray.
The timid jumped more than if a lion had roared beside them. All
were startled, and stared in mute amazement at the harsh-voiced one,
till the last broken note was uttered; then, on being assured that
nothing in particular was meant, they looked at each other, and burst
into a loud laugh at their common surprise. When one donkey
stimulated the other to try his vocal powers, the interest felt by
the startled visitors, must have equalled that of the Londoners, when
they first crowded to see the famous hippopotamus.
We were now, when we crossed the boundary rivulet Nyamatarara, out of
Chicova and amongst sandstone rocks, similar to those which prevail
between Lupata and Kebrabasa. In the latter gorge, as already
mentioned, igneous and syenitic masses have been acted on by some
great fiery convulsion of nature; the strata are thrown into a
huddled heap of confusion. The coal has of course disappeared in
Kebrabasa, but is found again in Chicova. Tette grey sandstone is
common about Sinjere, and wherever it is seen with fossil wood upon
it, coal lies beneath; and here, as at Chicova, some seams crop out
on the banks of the Zambesi. Looking southwards, the country is open
plain and woodland, with detached hills and mountains in the
distance; but the latter are too far off, the natives say, for them
to know their names. The principal hills on our right, as we look up
stream, are from six to twelve miles away, and occasionally they send
down spurs to the river, with brooks flowing through their narrow
valleys. The banks of the Zambesi show two well-defined terraces;
the first, or lowest, being usually narrow, and of great fertility,
while the upper one is a dry grassy plain, a thorny jungle, or a
mopane (Bauhinia) forest. One of these plains, near the Kafue, is
covered with the large stumps and trunks of a petrified forest. We
halted a couple of days by the fine stream Sinjere, which comes from
the Chiroby-roby hills, about eight miles to the north. Many lumps
of coal, brought down by the rapid current, lie in its channel. The
natives never seem to have discovered that coal would burn, and, when
informed of the fact, shook their heads, smiled incredulously, and
said "Kodi" (really), evidently regarding it as a mere traveller's
tale. They were astounded to see it burning freely on our fire of
wood. They told us that plenty of it was seen among the hills; but,
being long ago aware that we were now in an immense coalfield, we did
not care to examine it further.
A dyke of black basaltic rock, called Kakolole, crosses the river
near the mouth of the Sinjere; but it has two open gateways in it of
from sixty to eighty yards in breadth, and the channel is very deep.
On a shallow sandbank, under the dyke, lay a herd of hippopotami in
fancied security. The young ones were playing with each other like
young puppies, climbing on the backs of their dams, trying to take
hold of one another by the jaws and tumbling over into the water.
Mbia, one of the Makololo, waded across to within a dozen yards of
the drowsy beasts, and shot the father of the herd; who, being very
fat, soon floated, and was secured at the village below. The headman
of the village visited us while we were at breakfast. He wore a
black "ife" wig and a printed shirt. After a short silence he said
to Masakasa, "You are with the white people, so why do you not tell
them to give me a cloth?" "We are strangers," answered Masakasa,
"why do you not bring us some food?" He took the plain hint, and
brought us two fowls, in order that we should not report that in
passing him we got nothing to eat; and, as usual, we gave a cloth in
return. In reference to the hippopotamus he would make no demand,
but said he would take what we chose to give him. The men gorged
themselves with meat for two days, and cut large quantities into long
narrow strips, which they half-dried and half-roasted on wooden
frames over the fire. Much game is taken in this neighbourhood in
pitfalls. Sharp-pointed stakes are set in the bottom, on which the
game tumbles and gets impaled. The natives are careful to warn
strangers of these traps, and also of the poisoned beams suspended on
the tall trees for the purpose of killing elephants and hippopotami.
It is not difficult to detect the pitfalls after one's attention has
been called to them; but in places where they are careful to carry
the earth off to a distance, and a person is not thinking of such
things, a sudden descent of nine feet is an experience not easily
forgotten by the traveller. The sensations of one thus
instantaneously swallowed up by the earth are peculiar. A momentary
suspension of consciousness is followed by the rustling sound of a
shower of sand and dry grass, and the half-bewildered thought of
where he is, and how he came into darkness. Reason awakes to assure
him that he must have come down through that small opening of
daylight overhead, and that he is now where a hippopotamus ought to
have been. The descent of a hippopotamus pitfall is easy, but to get
out again into the upper air is a work of labour. The sides are
smooth and treacherous, and the cross reeds, which support the
covering, break in the attempt to get out by clutching them. A cry
from the depths is unheard by those around, and it is only by
repeated and most desperate efforts that the buried alive can regain
the upper world. At Tette we are told of a white hunter, of
unusually small stature, who plumped into a pit while stalking a
guinea-fowl on a tree. It was the labour of an entire forenoon to
get out; and he was congratulating himself on his escape, and
brushing off the clay from his clothes, when down he went into a
second pit, which happened, as is often the case, to be close beside
the first, and it was evening before he could work himself out of
THAT.
Elephants and buffaloes seldom return to the river by the same path
on two successive nights, they become so apprehensive of danger from
this human art. An old elephant will walk in advance of the herd,
and uncover the pits with his trunk, that the others may see the
openings and tread on firm ground. Female elephants are generally
the victims: more timid by nature than the males, and very motherly
in their anxiety for their calves, they carry their trunks up, trying
every breeze for fancied danger, which often in reality lies at their
feet. The tusker, fearing less, keeps his trunk down, and, warned in
time by that exquisitely sensitive organ, takes heed to his ways.
Our camp on the Sinjere stood under a wide-spreading wild fig-tree.
From the numbers of this family, of large size, dotted over the
country, the fig or banyan species would seem to have been held
sacred in Africa from the remotest times. The soil teemed with white
ants, whose clay tunnels, formed to screen them from the eyes of
birds, thread over the ground, up the trunks of trees, and along the
branches, from which the little architects clear away all rotten or
dead wood. Very often the exact shape of branches is left in tunnels
on the ground and not a bit of the wood inside. The first night we
passed here these destructive insects ate through our grass-beds, and
attacked our blankets, and certain large red-headed ones even bit our
flesh.
On some days not a single white ant is to be seen abroad; and on
others, and during certain hours, they appear out of doors in
myriads, and work with extraordinary zeal and energy in carrying bits
of dried grass down into their nests. During these busy reaping-fits
the lizards and birds have a good time of it, and enjoy a rich feast
at the expense of thousands of hapless workmen; and when they swarm
they are caught in countless numbers by the natives, and their
roasted bodies are spoken of in an unctuous manner as resembling
grains of soft rice fried in delicious fresh oil.
A strong marauding party of large black ants attacked a nest of white
ones near the camp: as the contest took place beneath the surface,
we could not see the order of the battle; but it soon became apparent
that the blacks had gained the day, and sacked the white town, for
they returned in triumph, bearing off the eggs, and choice bits of
the bodies of the vanquished. A gift, analogous to that of language,
has not been withheld from ants: if part of their building is
destroyed, an official is seen coming out to examine the damage; and,
after a careful survey of the ruins, he chirrups a few clear and
distinct notes, and a crowd of workers begin at once to repair the
breach. When the work is completed, another order is given, and the
workmen retire, as will appear on removing the soft freshly-built
portion. We tried to sleep one rainy might in a native hut, but
could not because of attacks by the fighting battalions of a very
small species of formica, not more than one-sixteenth of an inch in
length. It soon became obvious that they were under regular
discipline, and even attempting to carry out the skilful plans and
stratagems of some eminent leader. Our hands and necks were the
first objects of attack. Large bodies of these little pests were
massed in silence round the point to be assaulted. We could hear the
sharp shrill word of command two or three times repeated, though
until then we had not believed in the vocal power of an ant; the
instant after we felt the storming hosts range over head and neck,
biting the tender skin, clinging with a death-grip to the hair, and
parting with their jaws rather than quit their hold. On our lying
down again in the hope of their having been driven off, no sooner was
the light out, and all still, than the manoeuvre was repeated. Clear
and audible orders were issued, and the assault renewed. It was as
hard to sleep in that hut as in the trenches before Sebastopol. The
white ant, being a vegetable feeder, devours articles of vegetable
origin only, and leather, which, by tanning, is imbued with a
vegetable flavour. "A man may be rich to-day and poor to-morrow,
from the ravages of white ants," said a Portuguese merchant. "If he
gets sick, and unable to look after his goods, his slaves neglect
them, and they are soon destroyed by these insects." The reddish
ant, in the west called drivers, crossed our path daily, in solid
columns an inch wide, and never did the pugnacity of either man or
beast exceed theirs. It is a sufficient cause of war if you only
approach them, even by accident. Some turn out of the ranks and
stand with open mandibles, or, charging with extended jaws, bite with
savage ferocity. When hunting, we lighted among them too often;
while we were intent on the game, and without a thought of ants, they
quietly covered us from head to foot, then all began to bite at the
same instant; seizing a piece of the skin with their powerful
pincers, they twisted themselves round with it, as if determined to
tear it out. Their bites are so terribly sharp that the bravest must
run, and then strip to pick off those that still cling with their
hooked jaws, as with steel forceps. This kind abounds in damp
places, and is usually met with on the banks of streams. We have not
heard of their actually killing any animal except the Python, and
that only when gorged and quite lethargic, but they soon clear away
any dead animal matter; this appears to be their principal food, and
their use in the economy of nature is clearly in the scavenger line.
We started from the Sinjere on the 12th of June, our men carrying
with them bundles of hippopotamus meat for sale, and for future use.
We rested for breakfast opposite the Kakolole dyke, which confines
the channel, west of the Manyerere mountain. A rogue monkey, the
largest by far that we ever saw, and very fat and tame, walked off
leisurely from a garden as we approached. The monkey is a sacred
animal in this region, and is never molested or killed, because the
people believe devoutly that the souls of their ancestors now occupy
these degraded forms, and anticipate that they themselves must,
sooner or later, be transformed in like manner; a future as cheerless
for the black as the spirit-rapper's heaven is for the whites. The
gardens are separated from each other by a single row of small
stones, a few handfuls of grass, or a slight furrow made by the hoe.
Some are enclosed by a reed fence of the flimsiest construction, yet
sufficient to keep out the ever wary hippopotamus, who dreads a trap.
His extreme caution is taken advantage of by the women, who hang, as
a miniature trap-beam, a kigelia fruit with a bit of stick in the
end. This protects the maize, of which he is excessively fond.
The quantity of hippopotamus meat eaten by our men made some of them
ill, and our marches were necessarily short. After three hours'
travel on the 13th, we spent the remainder of the day at the village
of Chasiribera, on a rivulet flowing through a beautiful valley to
the north, which is bounded by magnificent mountain-ranges. Pinkwe,
or Mbingwe, otherwise Moeu, forms the south-eastern angle of the
range. On the 16th June we were at the flourishing village of Senga,
under the headman Manyame, which lies at the foot of the mount
Motemwa. Nearly all the mountains in this country are covered with
open forest and grass, in colour, according to the season, green or
yellow. Many are between 2000 and 3000 feet high, with the sky line
fringed with trees; the rocks show just sufficiently for one to
observe their stratification, or their granitic form, and though not
covered with dense masses of climbing plants, like those in moister
eastern climates, there is still the idea conveyed that most of the
steep sides are fertile, and none give the impression of that
barrenness which, in northern mountains, suggests the idea that the
bones of the world are sticking through its skin.
The villagers reported that we were on the footsteps of a Portuguese
half-caste, who, at Senga, lately tried to purchase ivory, but, in
consequence of his having murdered a chief near Zumbo and twenty of
his men, the people declined to trade with him. He threatened to
take the ivory by force, if they would not sell it; but that same
night the ivory and the women were spirited out of the village, and
only a large body of armed men remained. The trader, fearing that he
might come off second best if it came to blows, immediately departed.
Chikwanitsela, or Sekuanangila, is the paramount chief of some fifty
miles of the northern bank of the Zambesi in this locality. He lives
on the opposite, or southern side, and there his territory is still
more extensive. We sent him a present from Senga, and were informed
by a messenger next morning that he had a cough and could not come
over to see us. "And has his present a cough too," remarked one of
our party, "that it does not come to us? Is this the way your chief
treats strangers, receives their present, and sends them no food in
return?" Our men thought Chikwanitsela an uncommonly stingy fellow;
but, as it was possible that some of them might yet wish to return
this way, they did not like to scold him more than this, which was
sufficiently to the point.
Men and women were busily engaged in preparing the ground for the
November planting. Large game was abundant; herds of elephants and
buffaloes came down to the river in the night, but were a long way
off by daylight. They soon adopt this habit in places where they are
hunted.
The plains we travel over are constantly varying in breadth,
according as the furrowed and wooded hills approach or recede from
the river. On the southern side we see the hill Bungwe, and the
long, level, wooded ridge Nyangombe, the first of a series bending
from the S.E. to the N.W. past the Zambesi. We shot an old pallah on
the 16th, and found that the poor animal had been visited with more
than the usual share of animal afflictions. He was stone-blind in
both eyes, had several tumours, and a broken leg, which showed no
symptoms of ever having begun to heal. Wild animals sometimes suffer
a great deal from disease, and wearily drag on a miserable existence
before relieved of it by some ravenous beast. Once we drove off a
maneless lion and lioness from a dead buffalo, which had been in the
last stage of a decline. They had watched him staggering to the
river to quench his thirst, and sprang on him as he was crawling up
the bank. One had caught him by the throat, and the other by his
high projecting backbone, which was broken by the lion's powerful
fangs. The struggle, if any, must have been short. They had only
eaten the intestines when we frightened them off. It is curious that
this is the part that wild animals always begin with, and that it is
also the first choice of our men. Were it not a wise arrangement
that only the strongest males should continue the breed, one could
hardly help pitying the solitary buffalo expelled from the herd for
some physical blemish, or on account of the weakness of approaching
old age. Banished from female society, he naturally becomes morose
and savage; the necessary watchfulness against enemies is now never
shared by others; disgusted, he passes into a state of chronic war
with all who enjoy life, and the sooner after his expulsion that he
fills the lion's or the wild-dog's maw, the better for himself and
for the peace of the country.
We encamped on the 20th of June at a spot where Dr. Livingstone, on
his journey from the West to the East Coast, was formerly menaced by
a chief named Mpende. No offence had been committed against him, but
he had firearms, and, with the express object of showing his power,
he threatened to attack the strangers. Mpende's counsellors having,
however, found out that Dr. Livingstone belonged to a tribe of whom
they had heard that "they loved the black man and did not make
slaves," his conduct at once changed from enmity to kindness, and, as
the place was one well selected for defence, it was perhaps quite as
well for Mpende that he decided as he did. Three of his counsellors
now visited us, and we gave them a handsome present for their chief,
who came himself next morning and made us a present of a goat, a
basket of boiled maize, and another of vetches. A few miles above
this the headman, Chilondo of Nyamasusa, apologized for not formerly
lending us canoes. "He was absent, and his children were to blame
for not telling him when the Doctor passed; he did not refuse the
canoes." The sight of our men, now armed with muskets, had a great
effect. Without any bullying, firearms command respect, and lead men
to be reasonable who might otherwise feel disposed to be troublesome.
Nothing, however, our fracas with Mpende excepted, could be more
peaceful than our passage through this tract of country in 1856. We
then had nothing to excite the cupidity of the people, and the men
maintained themselves, either by selling elephant's meat, or by
exhibiting feats of foreign dancing. Most of the people were very
generous and friendly; but the Banyai, nearer to Tette than this,
stopped our march with a threatening war-dance. One of our party,
terrified at this, ran away, as we thought, insane, and could not,
after a painful search of three days, be found. The Banyai,
evidently touched by our distress, allowed us to proceed. Through a
man we left on an island a little below Mpende's, we subsequently
learned that poor Monaheng had fled thither, and had been murdered by
the headman for no reason except that he was defenceless. This
headman had since become odious to his countrymen, and had been put
to death by them.
On the 23rd of June we entered Pangola's principal village, which is
upwards of a mile from the river. The ruins of a mud wall showed
that a rude attempt had been made to imitate the Portuguese style of
building. We established ourselves under a stately wild fig-tree,
round whose trunk witchcraft medicine had been tied, to protect from
thieves the honey of the wild bees, which had their hive in one of
the limbs. This is a common device. The charm, or the medicine, is
purchased of the dice doctors, and consists of a strip of palm-leaf
smeared with something, and adorned with a few bits of grass, wood,
or roots. It is tied round the tree, and is believed to have the
power of inflicting disease and death on the thief who climbs over
it. Superstition is thus not without its uses in certain states of
society; it prevents many crimes and misdemeanours, which would occur
but for the salutary fear that it produces.
Pangola arrived, tipsy and talkative.--"We are friends, we are great
friends; I have brought you a basket of green maize--here it is!" We
thanked him, and handed him two fathoms of cotton cloth, four times
the market-value of his present. No, he would not take so small a
present; he wanted a double-barrelled rifle--one of Dixon's best.
"We are friends, you know; we are all friends together." But
although we were willing to admit that, we could not give him our
best rifle, so he went off in high dudgeon. Early next morning, as
we were commencing Divine service, Pangola returned, sober. We
explained to him that we wished to worship God, and invited him to
remain; he seemed frightened, and retired: but after service he
again importuned us for the rifle. It was of no use telling him that
we had a long journey before us, and needed it to kill game for
ourselves.--"He too must obtain meat for himself and people, for they
sometimes suffered from hunger." He then got sulky, and his people
refused to sell food except at extravagant prices. Knowing that we
had nothing to eat, they felt sure of starving us into compliance.
But two of our young men, having gone off at sunrise, shot a fine
water-buck, and down came the provision market to the lower figure;
they even became eager to sell, but our men were angry with them for
trying compulsion, and would not buy. Black greed had outwitted
itself, as happens often with white cupidity; and not only here did
the traits of Africans remind us of Anglo-Saxons elsewhere: the
notoriously ready world-wide disposition to take an unfair advantage
of a man's necessities shows that the same mean motives are pretty
widely diffused among all races. It may not be granted that the same
blood flows in all veins, or that all have descended from the same
stock; but the traveller has no doubt that, practically, the white
rogue and black are men and brothers.
Pangola is the child or vassal of Mpende. Sandia and Mpende are the
only independent chiefs from Kebrabasa to Zumbo, and belong to the
tribe Manganja. The country north of the mountains here in sight
from the Zambesi is called Senga, and its inhabitants Asenga, or
Basenga, but all appear to be of the same family as the rest of the
Manganja and Maravi. Formerly all the Manganja were united under the
government of their great chief, Undi, whose empire extended from
Lake Shirwa to the River Loangwa; but after Undi's death it fell to
pieces, and a large portion of it on the Zambesi was absorbed by
their powerful southern neighbours the Banyai. This has been the
inevitable fate of every African empire from time immemorial. A
chief of more than ordinary ability arises and, subduing all his less
powerful neighbours, founds a kingdom, which he governs more or less
wisely till he dies. His successor not having the talents of the
conqueror cannot retain the dominion, and some of the abler under-
chiefs set up for themselves, and, in a few years, the remembrance
only of the empire remains. This, which may be considered as the
normal state of African society, gives rise to frequent and
desolating wars, and the people long in vain for a power able to make
all dwell in peace. In this light, a European colony would be
considered by the natives as an inestimable boon to intertropical
Africa. Thousands of industrious natives would gladly settle round
it, and engage in that peaceful pursuit of agriculture and trade of
which they are so fond, and, undistracted by wars or rumours of wars,
might listen to the purifying and ennobling truths of the gospel of
Jesus Christ. The Manganja on the Zambesi, like their countrymen on
the Shire, are fond of agriculture; and, in addition to the usual
varieties of food, cultivate tobacco and cotton in quantities more
than equal to their wants. To the question, "Would they work for
Europeans?" an affirmative answer may be given, if the Europeans
belong to the class which can pay a reasonable price for labour, and
not to that of adventurers who want employment for themselves. All
were particularly well clothed from Sandia's to Pangola's; and it was
noticed that all the cloth was of native manufacture, the product of
their own looms. In Senga a great deal of iron is obtained from the
ore and manufactured very cleverly.
As is customary when a party of armed strangers visits the village,
Pangola took the precaution of sleeping in one of the outlying
hamlets. No one ever knows, or at any rate will tell, where the
chief sleeps. He came not next morning, so we went our way; but in a
few moments we saw the rifle-loving chief approaching with some armed
men. Before meeting us, he left the path and drew up his "following"
under a tree, expecting us to halt, and give him a chance of
bothering us again; but, having already had enough of that, we held
right on: he seemed dumbfoundered, and could hardly believe his own
eyes. For a few seconds he was speechless, but at last recovered so
far as to be able to say, "You are passing Pangola. Do you not see
Pangola?" Mbia was just going by at the time with the donkey, and,
proud of every opportunity of airing his small stock of English,
shouted in reply, "All right! then get on." "Click, click, click."
On the 26th June we breakfasted at Zumbo, on the left bank of the
Loangwa, near the ruins of some ancient Portuguese houses. The
Loangwa was too deep to be forded, and there were no canoes on our
side. Seeing two small ones on the opposite shore, near a few
recently erected huts of two half-castes from Tette, we halted for
the ferry-men to come over. From their movements it was evident that
they were in a state of rollicking drunkenness. Having a waterproof
cloak, which could be inflated into a tiny boat, we sent Mantlanyane
across in it. Three half-intoxicated slaves then brought us the
shaky canoes, which we lashed together and manned with our own canoe-
men. Five men were all that we could carry over at a time; and after
four trips had been made the slaves began to clamour for drink; not
receiving any, as we had none to give, they grew more insolent, and
declared that not another man should cross that day. Sininyane was
remonstrating with them, when a loaded musket was presented at him by
one of the trio. In an instant the gun was out of the rascal's
hands, a rattling shower of blows fell on his back, and he took an
involuntary header into the river. He crawled up the bank a sad and
sober man, and all three at once tumbled from the height of saucy
swagger to a low depth of slavish abjectness. The musket was found
to have an enormous charge, and might have blown our man to pieces,
but for the promptitude with which his companions administered
justice in a lawless land. We were all ferried safely across by 8
o'clock in the evening.
In illustration of what takes place where no government, or law
exists, the two half-castes, to whom these men belonged, left Tette,
with four hundred slaves, armed with the old Sepoy Brown Bess, to
hunt elephants and trade in ivory. On our way up, we heard from
natives of their lawless deeds, and again, on our way down, from
several, who had been eyewitnesses of the principal crime, and all
reports substantially agreed. The story is a sad one. After the
traders reached Zumbo, one of them, called by the natives Sequasha,
entered into a plot with the disaffected headman, Namakusuru, to kill
his chief, Mpangwe, in order that Namakusuru might seize upon the
chieftainship; and for the murder of Mpangwe the trader agreed to
receive ten large tusks of ivory. Sequasha, with a picked party of
armed slaves, went to visit Mpangwe who received him kindly, and
treated him with all the honour and hospitality usually shown to
distinguished strangers, and the women busied themselves in cooking
the best of their provisions for the repast to be set before him. Of
this, and also of the beer, the half-caste partook heartily. Mpangwe
was then asked by Sequasha to allow his men to fire their guns in
amusement. Innocent of any suspicion of treachery, and anxious to
hear the report of firearms, Mpangwe at once gave his consent; and
the slaves rose and poured a murderous volley into the merry group of
unsuspecting spectators, instantly killing the chief and twenty of
his people. The survivors fled in horror. The children and young
women were seized as slaves, and the village sacked. Sequasha sent
the message to Namakusuru: "I have killed the lion that troubled
you; come and let us talk over the matter." He came and brought the
ivory. "No," said the half-caste, "let us divide the land:" and he
took the larger share for himself, and compelled the would-be usurper
to deliver up his bracelets, in token of subjection on becoming the
child or vassal of Sequasha. These were sent in triumph to the
authorities at Tette. The governor of Quillimane had told us that he
had received orders from Lisbon to take advantage of our passing to
re-establish Zumbo; and accordingly these traders had built a small
stockade on the rich plain of the right bank of Loangwa, a mile above
the site of the ancient mission church of Zumbo, as part of the royal
policy. The bloodshed was quite unnecessary, because, the land at
Zumbo having of old been purchased, the natives would have always of
their own accord acknowledged the right thus acquired; they pointed
it out to Dr. Livingstone in 1856 that, though they were cultivating
it, is was not theirs, but white man's land. Sequasha and his mate
had left their ivory in charge of some of their slaves, who, in the
absence of their masters, were now having a gay time of it, and
getting drunk every day with the produce of the sacked villages. The
head slave came and begged for the musket of the delinquent ferryman,
which was returned. He thought his master did perfectly right to
kill Mpangwe, when asked to do it for the fee of ten tusks, and he
even justified it thus: "If a man invites you to eat, will you not
partake?"
We continued our journey on the 28th of June. Game was extremely
abundant, and there were many lions. Mbia drove one off from his
feast on a wild pig, and appropriated what remained of the pork to
his own use. Lions are particularly fond of the flesh of wild pigs
and zebras, and contrive to kill a large number of these animals. In
the afternoon we arrived at the village of the female chief, Ma-
mburuma, but she herself was now living on the opposite side of the
river. Some of her people called, and said she had been frightened
by seeing her son and other children killed by Sequasha, and had fled
to the other bank; but when her heart was healed, she would return
and live in her own village, and among her own people. She
constantly inquired of the black traders, who came up the river, if
they had any news of the white man who passed with the oxen. "He has
gone down into the sea," was their reply, "but we belong to the same
people." "Oh no; you need not tell me that; he takes no slaves, but
wishes peace: you are not of his tribe." This antislavery character
excites such universal attention, that any missionary who winked at
the gigantic evils involved in the slave-trade would certainly fail
to produce any good impression on the native mind.
CHAPTER VI.
Illness--The Honey-guide--Abundance of game--The Baenda pezi--The
Batoka.
We left the river here, and proceeded up the valley which leads to
the Mburuma or Mohango pass. The nights were cold, and on the 30th
of June the thermometer was as low as 39 degrees at sunrise. We
passed through a village of twenty large huts, which Sequasha had
attacked on his return from the murder of the chief, Mpangwe. He
caught the women and children for slaves, and carried off all the
food, except a huge basket of bran, which the natives are wont to
save against a time of famine. His slaves had broken all the water-
pots and the millstones for grinding meal.
The buaze-trees and bamboos are now seen on the hills; but the jujube
or zisyphus, which has evidently been introduced from India, extends
no further up the river. We had been eating this fruit, which,
having somewhat the taste of apples, the Portuguese call Macaas, all
the way from Tette; and here they were larger than usual, though
immediately beyond they ceased to be found. No mango-tree either is
to be met with beyond this point, because the Portuguese traders
never established themselves anywhere beyond Zumbo. Tsetse flies are
more numerous and troublesome than we have ever before found them.
They accompany us on the march, often buzzing round our heads like a
swarm of bees. They are very cunning, and when intending to bite,
alight so gently that their presence is not perceived till they
thrust in their lance-like proboscis. The bite is acute, but the
pain is over in a moment; it is followed by a little of the
disagreeable itching of the mosquito's bite. This fly invariably
kills all domestic animals except goats and donkeys; man and the wild
animals escape. We ourselves were severely bitten on this pass, and
so were our donkeys, but neither suffered from any after effects.
Water is scarce in the Mburuma pass, except during the rainy season.
We however halted beside some fine springs in the bed of the now dry
rivulet, Podebode, which is continued down to the end of the pass,
and yields water at intervals in pools. Here we remained a couple of
days in consequence of the severe illness of Dr. Kirk. He had
several times been attacked by fever; and observed that when we were
on the cool heights he was comfortable, but when we happened to
descend from a high to a lower altitude, he felt chilly, though the
temperature in the latter case was 25 degrees higher than it was
above; he had been trying different medicines of reputed efficacy
with a view to ascertain whether other combinations might not be
superior to the preparation we generally used; in halting by this
water he suddenly became blind, and unable to stand from faintness.
The men, with great alacrity, prepared a grassy bed, on which we laid
our companion, with the sad forebodings which only those who have
tended the sick in a wild country can realize. We feared that in
experimenting he had over-drugged himself; but we gave him a dose of
our fever pills; on the third day he rode the one of the two donkeys
that would allow itself to be mounted, and on the sixth he marched as
well as any of us. This case is mentioned in order to illustrate
what we have often observed, that moving the patient from place to
place is most conducive to the cure; and the more pluck a man has--
the less he gives in to the disease--the less likely he is to die.
Supplied with water by the pools in the Podebode, we again joined the
Zambesi at the confluence of the rivulet. When passing through a dry
district the native hunter knows where to expect water by the animals
he sees. The presence of the gemsbuck, duiker or diver, springbucks,
or elephants, is no proof that water is near; for these animals roam
over vast tracts of country, and may be met scores of miles from it.
Not so, however, the zebra, pallah, buffalo, and rhinoceros; their
spoor gives assurance that water is not far off, as they never stray
any distance from its neighbourhood. But when amidst the solemn
stillness of the woods, the singing of joyous birds falls upon the
ear, it is certain that water is close at hand.
Our men in hunting came on an immense herd of buffaloes, quietly
resting in the long dry grass, and began to blaze away furiously at
the astonished animals. In the wild excitement of the hunt, which
heretofore had been conducted with spears, some forgot to load with
ball, and, firing away vigorously with powder only, wondered for the
moment that the buffaloes did not fall. The slayer of the young
elephant, having buried his four bullets in as many buffaloes, fired
three charges of No. 1 shot he had for killing guinea-fowl. The
quaint remarks and merriment after these little adventures seemed to
the listener like the pleasant prattle of children. Mbia and
Mantlanyane, however, killed one buffalo each; both the beasts were
in prime condition; the meat was like really excellent beef, with a
smack of venison. A troop of hungry, howling hyenas also thought the
savour tempting, as they hung round the camp at night, anxious to
partake of the feast. They are, fortunately, arrant cowards, and
never attack either men or beasts except they can catch them asleep,
sick, or at some other disadvantage. With a bright fire at our feet
their presence excites no uneasiness. A piece of meat hung on a
tree, high enough to make him jump to reach it, and a short spear,
with its handle firmly planted in the ground beneath, are used as a
device to induce the hyena to commit suicide by impalement.
The honey-guide is an extraordinary bird; how is it that every member
of its family has learned that all men, white or black, are fond of
honey? The instant the little fellow gets a glimpse of a man, he
hastens to greet him with the hearty invitation to come, as Mbia
translated it, to a bees' hive, and take some honey. He flies on in
the proper direction, perches on a tree, and looks back to see if you
are following; then on to another and another, until he guides you to
the spot. If you do not accept his first invitation he follows you
with pressing importunities, quite as anxious to lure the stranger to
the bees' hive as other birds are to draw him away from their own
nest. Except while on the march, our men were sure to accept the
invitation, and manifested the same by a peculiar responsive whistle,
meaning, as they said, "All right, go ahead; we are coming." The
bird never deceived them, but always guided them to a hive of bees,
though some had but little honey in store. Has this peculiar habit
of the honey-guide its origin, as the attachment of dogs, in
friendship for man, or in love for the sweet pickings of the plunder
left on the ground? Self-interest aiding in preservation from danger
seems to be the rule in most cases, as, for instance, in the bird
that guards the buffalo and rhinoceros. The grass is often so tall
and dense that one could go close up to these animals quite
unperceived; but the guardian bird, sitting on the beast, sees the
approach of danger, flaps its wings and screams, which causes its
bulky charge to rush off from a foe he has neither seen nor heard;
for his reward the vigilant little watcher has the pick of the
parasites on his fat friend. In other cases a chance of escape must
be given even by the animal itself to its prey; as in the rattle-
snake, which, when excited to strike, cannot avoid using his rattle,
any more than the cat can resist curling its tail when excited in the
chase of a mouse, or the cobra can refrain from inflating the loose
skin of the neck and extending it laterally, before striking its
poison fangs into its victim. There are many snakes in parts of this
pass; they basked in the warm sunshine, but rustled off through the
leaves as we approached. We observed one morning a small one of a
deadly poisonous species, named Kakone, on a bush by the wayside,
quietly resting in a horizontal position, digesting a lizard for
breakfast. Though openly in view, its colours and curves so closely
resembled a small branch that some failed to see it, even after being
asked if they perceived anything on the bush. Here also one of our
number had a glance at another species, rarely seen, and whose swift
lightning-like motion has given rise to the native proverb, that when
a man sees this snake he will forthwith become a rich man.
We slept near the ruined village of the murdered chief, Mpangwe, a
lovely spot, with the Zambesi in front, and extensive gardens behind,
backed by a semicircle of hills receding up to lofty mountains. Our
path kept these mountains on our right, and crossed several
streamlets, which seemed to be perennial, and among others the
Selole, which apparently flows past the prominent peak Chiarapela.
These rivulets have often human dwellings on their banks; but the
land can scarcely be said to be occupied. The number of all sorts of
game increases wonderfully every day. As a specimen of what may be
met with where there are no human habitations, and where no firearms
have been introduced, we may mention what at times has actually been
seen by us. On the morning of July 3rd a herd of elephants passed
within fifty yards of our sleeping-place, going down to the river
along the dry bed of a rivulet. Starting a few minutes before the
main body, we come upon large flocks of guinea-fowl, shoot what may
be wanted for dinner, or next morning's breakfast, and leave them in
the path to be picked up by the cook and his mates behind. As we
proceed, francolins of three varieties run across the path, and
hundreds of turtle-doves rise, with great blatter of wing, and fly
off to the trees. Guinea-fowls, francolins, turtle-doves, ducks, and
geese are the game birds of this region. At sunrise a herd of
pallahs, standing like a flock of sheep, allow the first man of our
long Indian file to approach within about fifty yards; but having
meat, we let them trot off leisurely and unmolested. Soon afterwards
we come upon a herd of waterbucks, which here are very much darker in
colour, and drier in flesh, than the same species near the sea. They
look at us and we at them; and we pass on to see a herd of doe
koodoos, with a magnificently horned buck or two, hurrying off to the
dry hill-sides. We have ceased shooting antelopes, as our men have
been so often gorged with meat that they have become fat and dainty.
They say that they do not want more venison, it is so dry and
tasteless, and ask why we do not give them shot to shoot the more
savoury guinea-fowl.
About eight o'clock the tsetse commence to buzz about us, and bite
our hands and necks sharply. Just as we are thinking of breakfast,
we meet some buffaloes grazing by the path; but they make off in a
heavy gallop at the sight of man. We fire, and the foremost, badly
wounded, separates from the herd, and is seen to stop amongst the
trees; but, as it is a matter of great danger to follow a wounded
buffalo, we hold on our way. It is this losing of wounded animals
which makes firearms so annihilating to these beasts of the field,
and will in time sweep them all away. The small Enfield bullet is
worse than the old round one for this. It often goes through an
animal without killing him, and he afterwards perishes, when he is of
no value to man. After breakfast we draw near a pond of water; a
couple of elephants stand on its bank, and, at a respectful distance
behind these monarchs of the wilderness, is seen a herd of zebras,
and another of waterbucks. On getting our wind the royal beasts make
off at once; but the zebras remain till the foremost man is within
eighty yards of them, when old and young canter gracefully away. The
zebra has a great deal of curiosity; and this is often fatal to him,
for he has the habit of stopping to look at the hunter. In this
particular he is the exact opposite of the diver antelope, which
rushes off like the wind, and never for a moment stops to look
behind, after having once seen or smelt danger. The finest zebra of
the herd is sometimes shot, our men having taken a sudden fancy to
the flesh, which all declare to be the "king of good meat." On the
plains of short grass between us and the river many antelopes of
different species are calmly grazing, or reposing. Wild pigs are
common, and walk abroad during the day; but are so shy as seldom to
allow a close approach. On taking alarm they erect their slender
tails in the air, and trot off swiftly in a straight line, keeping
their bodies as steady as a locomotive on a railroad. A mile beyond
the pool three cow buffaloes with their calves come from the woods,
and move out into the plain. A troop of monkeys, on the edge of the
forest, scamper back to its depths on hearing the loud song of
Singeleka, and old surly fellows, catching sight of the human party,
insult it with a loud and angry bark. Early in the afternoon we may
see buffaloes again, or other animals. We camp on the dry higher
ground, after, as has happened, driving off a solitary elephant. The
nights are warmer now, and possess nearly as much of interest and
novelty as the days. A new world awakes and comes forth, more
numerous, if we may judge by the noise it makes, than that which is
abroad by sunlight. Lions and hyenas roar around us, and sometimes
come disagreeably near, though they have never ventured into our
midst. Strange birds sing their agreeable songs, while others scream
and call harshly as if in fear or anger. Marvellous insect-sounds
fall upon the ear; one, said by natives to proceed from a large
beetle, resembles a succession of measured musical blows upon an
anvil, while many others are perfectly indescribable. A little lemur
was once seen to leap about from branch to branch with the agility of
a frog; it chirruped like a bird, and is not larger than a robin red-
breast. Reptiles, though numerous, seldom troubled us; only two men
suffered from stings, and that very slightly, during the entire
journey, the one supposed that he was bitten by a snake, and the
other was stung by a scorpion.
Grass-burning has begun, and is producing the blue hazy atmosphere of
the American Indian summer, which in Western Africa is called the
"smokes." Miles of fire burn on the mountain-sides in the evenings,
but go out during the night. From their height they resemble a broad
zigzag line of fire in the heavens.
We slept on the night of the 6th of July on the left bank of the
Chongwe, which comes through a gap in the hills on our right, and is
twenty yards wide. A small tribe of the Bazizulu, from the south,
under Dadanga, have recently settled here and built a village. Some
of their houses are square, and they seem to be on friendly terms
with the Bakoa, who own the country. They, like the other natives,
cultivate cotton, but of a different species from any we have yet
seen in Africa, the staple being very long, and the boll larger than
what is usually met with; the seeds cohere as in the Pernambuco kind.
They brought the seed with them from their own country, the distant
mountains of which in the south, still inhabited by their fellow-
countrymen, who possess much cattle and use shields, can be seen from
this high ground. These people profess to be children of the great
paramount chief, Kwanyakarombe, who is said to be lord of all the
Bazizulu. The name of this tribe is known to geographers, who derive
their information from the Portuguese, as the Morusurus, and the
hills mentioned above are said to have been the country of
Changamira, the warrior-chief of history, whom no Portuguese ever
dared to approach. The Bazizulu seem, by report, to be brave
mountaineers; nearer the river, the Sidima inhabit the plains; just
as on the north side, the Babimpe live on the heights, about two days
off, and the Makoa on or near the river. The chief of the Bazizulu
we were now with was hospitable and friendly. A herd of buffaloes
came trampling through the gardens and roused up our men; a feat that
roaring lions seldom achieved.
Our course next day passed over the upper terrace and through a dense
thorn jungle. Travelling is always difficult where there is no path,
but it is even more perplexing where the forest is cut up by many
game-tracks. Here we got separated from one another, and a
rhinoceros with angry snort dashed at Dr. Livingstone as he stooped
to pick up a specimen of the wild fruit morula; but she strangely
stopped stock-still when less than her own length distant, and gave
him time to escape; a branch pulled out his watch as he ran, and
turning half round to grasp it, he got a distant glance of her and
her calf still standing on the selfsame spot, as if arrested in the
middle of her charge by an unseen hand. When about fifty yards off,
thinking his companions close behind, he shouted "Look out there!"
when off she rushed, snorting loudly, in another direction. The
Doctor usually went unarmed before this, but never afterwards.
A fine eland was shot by Dr. Kirk this afternoon, the first we have
killed. It was in first-rate condition, and remarkably fat; but the
meat, though so tempting in appearance, severely deranged all who
partook of it heartily, especially those who ate of the fat. Natives
who live in game countries, and are acquainted with the different
kinds of wild animals, have a prejudice against the fat of the eland,
the pallah, the zebra, hippopotamus, and pig; they never reject it,
however, the climate making the desire for all animal food very
strong; but they consider that it causes ulcers and leprosy, while
the fat of sheep and of oxen never produces any bad effects, unless
the animal is diseased.
On the morning of the 9th, after passing four villages, we
breakfasted at an old friend's, Tombanyama, who lives now on the
mainland, having resigned the reedy island, where he was first seen,
to the buffaloes, which used to take his crops and show fight to his
men. He keeps a large flock of tame pigeons, and some fine fat
capons, one of which he gave us, with a basket of meal. They have
plenty of salt in this part of the country, obtaining it from the
plains in the usual way.
The half-caste partner of Sequasha and a number of his men were
staying near. The fellow was very munch frightened when he saw us,
and trembled so much when he spoke, that the Makololo and other
natives noticed and remarked on it. His fears arose from a sense of
guilt, as we said nothing to frighten him, and did not allude to the
murder till a few minutes before starting; when it was remarked that
Dr. Livingstone having been accredited to the murdered chief, it
would be his duty to report on it; and that not even the Portuguese
Government would approve of the deed. He defended it by saying that
they had put in the right man, the other was a usurper. He was
evidently greatly relieved when we departed. In the afternoon we
came to an outlying hamlet of Kambadzo, whose own village is on an
island, Nyampungo, or Nyangalule, at the confluence of the Kafue.
The chief was on a visit here, and they had been enjoying a regular
jollification. There had been much mirth, music, drinking, and
dancing. The men, and women too, had taken "a wee drap too much,"
but had not passed the complimentary stage. The wife of the headman,
after looking at us a few moments, called out to the others, "Black
traders have come before, calling themselves Bazungu, or white men,
but now, for the first time, have we seen the real Bazungu."
Kambadzo also soon appeared; he was sorry that we had not come before
the beer was all done, but he was going back to see if it was all
really and entirely finished, and not one little potful left
somewhere.
This was, of course, mere characteristic politeness, as he was
perfectly aware that every drop had been swallowed; so we proceeded
on to the Kafue, or Kafuje, accompanied by the most intelligent of
his headmen. A high ridge, just before we reached the confluence,
commands a splendid view of the two great rivers, and the rich
country beyond. Behind, on the north and east, is the high mountain-
range, along whose base we have been travelling; the whole range is
covered with trees, which appear even on the prominent peaks,
Chiarapela, Morindi, and Chiava; at this last the chain bends away to
the N.W., and we could see the distant mountains where the chief,
Semalembue, gained all our hearts in 1856.
On the 9th of July we tried to send Semalembue a present, but the
people here refused to incur the responsibility of carrying it. We,
who have the art of writing, cannot realize the danger one incurs of
being accused of purloining a portion of goods sent from one person
to another, when the carrier cannot prove that he delivered all
committed to his charge. Rumours of a foray having been made, either
by Makololo or Batoka, as far as the fork of the Kafue, were received
here by our men with great indignation, as it looked as if the
marauders were shutting up the country, which they had been trying so
much to open. Below the junction of the rivers, on a shallow
sandbank, lay a large herd of hippopotami, their bodies out of the
water, like masses of black rock. Kambadzo's island, called
Nyangalule, a name which occurs again at the mouth of the Zambesi,
has many choice Motsikiri (Trachelia) trees on it; and four very
conspicuous stately palms growing out of a single stem. The Kafue
reminds us a little of the Shire, flowing between steep banks, with
fertile land on both sides. It is a smaller river, and has less
current. Here it seems to come from the west. The headman of the
village, near which we encamped, brought a present of meal, fowls,
and sweet potatoes. They have both the red and white varieties of
this potato. We have, on several occasions during this journey, felt
the want of vegetables, in a disagreeable craving which our diet of
meat and native meal could not satisfy. It became worse and worse
till we got a meal of potatoes, which allayed it at once. A great
scarcity of vegetables prevails in these parts of Africa. The
natives collect several kinds of wild plants in the woods, which they
use no doubt for the purpose of driving off cravings similar to those
we experienced.
Owing to the strength of the wind, and the cranky state of the
canoes, it was late in the afternoon of the 11th before our party was
ferried over the Kafue. After crossing, we were in the Bawe country.
Fishhooks here, of native workmanship, were observed to have barbs
like the European hooks: elsewhere the point of the hook is merely
bent in towards the shank, to have the same effect in keeping on the
fish as the barb. We slept near a village a short distance above the
ford. The people here are of Batoka origin, the same as many of our
men, and call themselves Batonga (independents), or Balengi, and
their language only differs slightly from that of the Bakoa, who live
between the two rivers Kafue and Loangwa. The paramount chief of the
district lives to the west of this place, and is called Nchomokela--
an hereditary title: the family burying-place is on a small hill
near this village. The women salute us by clapping their hands and
lullilooing as we enter and leave a village, and the men, as they
think, respectfully clap their hands on their hips. Immense crops of
mapira (holcus sorghum) are raised; one species of it forms a natural
bend on the seed-stalk, so that the massive ear hangs down. The
grain was heaped up on wooden stages, and so was a variety of other
products. The men are skilful hunters, and kill elephants and
buffaloes with long heavy spears. We halted a few minutes on the
morning of the 12th July, opposite the narrow island of Sikakoa,
which has a village on its lower end. We were here told that
Moselekatse's chief town is a month's distance from this place. They
had heard, moreover, that the English had come to Moselekatse, and
told him it was wrong to kill men; and he had replied that he was
born to kill people, but would drop the habit; and, since the English
came, he had sent out his men, not to kill as of yore, but to collect
tribute of cloth and ivory. This report referred to the arrival of
the Rev. R. Moffat, of Kuruman, who, we afterwards found, had
established a mission. The statement is interesting as showing that,
though imperfectly expressed, the purport of the missionaries'
teaching had travelled, in a short time, over 300 miles, and we know
not how far the knowledge of the English operations on the coast
spread inland.
When abreast of the high wooded island Kalabi we came in contact with
one of the game-laws of the country, which has come down from the
most ancient times. An old buffalo crossed the path a few yards in
front of us; our guide threw his small spear at its hip, and it was
going off scarcely hurt, when three rifle balls knocked it over. "It
is mine," said the guide. He had wounded it first, and the
established native game-law is that the animal belongs to the man who
first draws blood; the two legs on one side, by the same law,
belonged to us for killing it. This beast was very old, blind of one
eye, and scabby; the horns, mere stumps, not a foot long, must have
atrophied, when by age he lost the strength distinctive of his sex;
some eighteen or twenty inches of horn could not well be worn down by
mere rubbing against the trees. We saw many buffaloes next day,
standing quietly amidst a thick thorn-jungle, through which we were
passing. They often stood until we were within fifty or a hundred
yards of them.
On the 14th July we left the river at the mountain-range, which,
lying north-east and south-west across the river, forms the Kariba
gorge. Near the upper end of the Kariba rapids, the stream Sanyati
enters from the south, and is reported to have Moselekatse's
principal cattle-posts at its sources; our route went round the end
of the mountains, and we encamped beside the village of the generous
chief Moloi, who brought us three immense baskets of fine mapira
meal, ten fowls, and two pots of beer. On receiving a present in
return, he rose, and, with a few dancing gestures, said or sang,
"Motota, Motota, Motota," which our men translated into "thanks." He
had visited Moselekatse a few months before our arrival, and saw the
English missionaries, living in their wagons. "They told
Moselekatse," said he, "they were of his family, or friends, and
would plough the land and live at their own expense;" and he had
replied, "The land is before you, and I shall come and see you
plough." This again was substantially what took place, when Mr.
Moffat introduced the missionaries to his old friend, and shows still
further that the notion of losing their country by admitting
foreigners does not come as the first idea to the native mind. One
might imagine that, as mechanical powers are unknown to the heathen,
the almost magic operations of machinery, the discoveries of modern
science and art, or the presence of the prodigious force which, for
instance, is associated with the sight of a man-of-war, would have
the effect which miracles once had of arresting the attention and
inspiring awe. But, though we have heard the natives exclaim in
admiration at the sight of even small illustrations of what science
enables us to do--"Ye are gods, and not men"--the heart is
unaffected. In attempting their moral elevation, it is always more
conducive to the end desired, that the teacher should come
unaccompanied by any power to cause either jealousy or fear. The
heathen, who have not become aware of the greed and hate which too
often characterize the advancing tide of emigration, listen with most
attention to the message of Divine love when delivered by men who
evidently possess the same human sympathies with themselves. A chief
is rather envied his good fortune in first securing foreigners in his
town. Jealousy of strangers belongs more to the Arab than to the
African character; and if the women are let alone by the traveller,
no danger need be apprehended from any save the slave-trading tribes,
and not often even from them.
We passed through a fertile country, covered with open forest,
accompanied by the friendly Bawe. They are very hospitable; many of
them were named, among themselves, "the Baenda pezi," or "Go-nakeds,"
their only clothing being a coat of red ochre. Occasionally stopping
at their villages we were duly lullilooed, and regaled with sweet
new-made beer, which, being yet unfermented, was not intoxicating.
It is in this state called Liting or Makonde. Some of the men carry
large shields of buffalo-hide, and all are well supplied with heavy
spears. The vicinity of the villages is usually cleared and
cultivated in large patches; but nowhere can the country be said to
be stocked with people. At every village stands were erected, and
piles of the native corn, still unthrashed, placed upon them; some
had been beaten out, put into oblong parcels made of grass, and
stacked in wooden frames.
We crossed several rivulets in our course, as the Mandora, the Lofia,
the Manzaia (with brackish water), the Rimbe, the Chibue, the Chezia,
the Chilola (containing fragments of coal), which did little more
than mark our progress. The island and rapid of Nakansalo, of which
we had formerly heard, were of no importance, the rapid being but
half a mile long, and only on one side of the island. The island
Kaluzi marks one of the numerous places where astronomical
observations were made; Mozia, a station where a volunteer poet left
us; the island Mochenya, and Mpande island, at the mouth of the
Zungwe rivulet, where we left the Zambesi.
When favoured with the hospitality and company of the "Go-nakeds," we
tried to discover if nudity were the badge of a particular order
among the Bawe, but they could only refer to custom. Some among them
had always liked it for no reason in particular: shame seemed to lie
dormant, and the sense could not be aroused by our laughing and
joking them on their appearance. They evidently felt no less decent
than we did with our clothes on; but, whatever may be said in favour
of nude statues, it struck us that man, in a state of nature, is a
most ungainly animal. Could we see a number of the degraded of our
own lower classes in like guise, it is probable that, without the
black colour which acts somehow as a dress, they would look worse
still.
In domestic contentions the Bawe are careful not to kill each other;
but, when one village goes to war with another, they are not so
particular. The victorious party are said to quarter one of the
bodies of the enemies they may have killed, and to perform certain
ceremonies over the fragments. The vanquished call upon their
conquerors to give them a portion also; and, when this request is
complied with, they too perform the same ceremonies, and lament over
their dead comrade, after which the late combatants may visit each
other in peace. Sometimes the head of the slain is taken and buried
in an ant-hill, till all the flesh is gone; and the lower jaw is then
worn as a trophy by the slayer; but this we never saw, and the
foregoing information was obtained only through an interpreter.
We left the Zambesi at the mouth of the Zungwe or Mozama or Dela
rivulet, up which we proceeded, first in a westerly and then in a
north-westerly direction. The Zungwe at this time had no water in
its sandy channel for the first eight or ten miles. Willows,
however, grow on the banks, and water soon began to appear in the
hollows; and a few miles further up it was a fine flowing stream
deliciously cold. As in many other streams from Chicova to near
Sinamane shale and coal crop out in the bank; and here the large
roots of stigmaria or its allied plants were found. We followed the
course of the Zungwe to the foot of the Batoka highlands, up whose
steep and rugged sides of red and white quartz we climbed till we
attained an altitude of upwards of 3000 feet. Here, on the cool and
bracing heights, the exhilaration of mind and body was delightful, as
we looked back at the hollow beneath covered with a hot sultry glare,
not unpleasant now that we were in the mild radiance above. We had a
noble view of the great valley in which the Zambesi flows. The
cultivated portions are so small in comparison to the rest of the
landscape that the valley appears nearly all forest, with a few
grassy glades. We spent the night of the 28th July high above the
level of the sea, by the rivulet Tyotyo, near Tabacheu or
Chirebuechina, names both signifying white mountain; in the morning
hoar frost covered the ground, and thin ice was on the pools.
Skirting the southern flank of Tabacheu, we soon passed from the
hills on to the portion of the vast table-land called Mataba, and
looking back saw all the way across the Zambesi valley to the lofty
ridge some thirty miles off, which, coming from the Mashona, a
country in the S.E., runs to the N.W. to join the ridge at the angle
of which are the Victoria Falls, and then bends far to the N.E. from
the same point. Only a few years since these extensive highlands
were peopled by the Batoka; numerous herds of cattle furnished
abundance of milk, and the rich soil amply repaid the labour of the
husbandman; now large herds of buffaloes, zebras, and antelopes
fatten on the excellent pasture; and on that land, which formerly
supported multitudes, not a man is to been seen. In travelling from
Monday morning till late on Saturday afternoon, all the way from
Tabacheu to Moachemba, which is only twenty-one miles of latitude
from the Victoria Falls, and constantly passing the ruined sites of
utterly deserted Botoka villages, we did not fall in with a single
person. The Batoka were driven out of their noble country by the
invasions of Moselekatse and Sebetuane. Several tribes of Bechuana
and Basutu, fleeing from the Zulu or Matebele chief Moselekatse
reached the Zambesi above the Falls. Coming from a land without
rivers, none of them knew how to swim; and one tribe, called the
Bamangwato, wishing to cross the Zambesi, was ferried over, men and
women separately, to different islands, by one of the Batoka chiefs;
the men were then left to starve and the women appropriated by the
ferryman and his people. Sekomi, the present chief of the
Bamangwato, then an infant in his mother's arms, was enabled, through
the kindness of a private Batoka, to escape. This act seems to have
made an indelible impression on Sekomi's heart, for though otherwise
callous, he still never fails to inquire after the welfare of his
benefactor.
Sebetuane, with his wonted ability, outwitted the treacherous Batoka,
by insisting in the politest manner on their chief remaining at his
own side until the people and cattle were all carried safe across;
the chief was then handsomely rewarded, both with cattle and brass
rings off Sebetuane's own wives. No sooner were the Makololo, then
called Basuto, safely over, than they were confronted by the whole
Batoka nation; and to this day the Makololo point with pride to the
spot on the Lekone, near to which they were encamped, where
Sebetuane, with a mere handful of warriors in comparison to the vast
horde that surrounded him, stood waiting the onslaught, the warriors
in one small body, the women and children guarding the cattle behind
them. The Batoka, of course, melted away before those who had been
made veterans by years of continual fighting, and Sebetuane always
justified his subsequent conquests in that country by alleging that
the Batoka had come out to fight with a man fleeing for his life, who
had never done them any wrong. They seem never to have been a
warlike race; passing through their country, we once observed a large
stone cairn, and our guide favoured us with the following account of
it:- "Once upon a time, our forefathers were going to fight another
tribe, and here they halted and sat down. After a long consultation,
they came to the unanimous conclusion that, instead of proceeding to
fight and kill their neighbours, and perhaps be killed themselves, it
would be more like men to raise this heap of stones, as their protest
against the wrong the other tribe had done them, which, having
accomplished, they returned quietly home." Such men of peace could
not stand before the Makololo, nor, of course, the more warlike
Matebele, who coming afterwards, drove even their conquerors, the
Makololo, out of the country. Sebetuane, however, profiting by the
tactics which he had learned of the Batoka, inveigled a large body of
this new enemy on to another island, and after due starvation there
overcame the whole. A much greater army of "Moselekatse's own"
followed with canoes, but were now baffled by Sebetuane's placing all
his people and cattle on an island and so guarding it that none could
approach. Dispirited, famished, borne down by fever, they returned
to the Falls, and all except five were cut off.
But though the Batoka appear never to have had much inclination to
fight with men, they are decidedly brave hunters of buffaloes and
elephants. They go fearlessly close up to these formidable animals,
and kill them with large spears. The Banyai, who have long bullied
all Portuguese traders, were amazed at the daring and bravery of the
Batoka in coming at once to close quarters with the elephant; and
Chisaka, a Portuguese rebel, having formerly induced a body of this
tribe to settle with him, ravaged all the Portuguese villas around
Tette. They bear the name of Basimilongwe, and some of our men found
relations among them. Sininyane and Matenga also, two of our party,
were once inveigled into a Portuguese expedition against Mariano, by
the assertion that the Doctor had arrived and had sent for them to
come down to Senna. On finding that they were entrapped to fight,
they left, after seeing an officer with a large number of Tette
slaves killed.
The Batoka had attained somewhat civilized ideas, in planting and
protecting various fruit and oil-seed yielding trees of the country.
No other tribe either plants or abstains from cutting down fruit
trees, but here we saw some which had been planted in regular rows,
and the trunks of which were quite two feet in diameter. The grand
old Mosibe, a tree yielding a bean with a thin red pellicle, said to
be very fattening, had probably seen two hundred summers. Dr. Kirk
found that the Mosibe is peculiar, in being allied to a species met
with only in the West Indies. The Motsikiri, sometimes called
Mafuta, yields a hard fat, and an oil which is exported from
Inhambane. It is said that two ancient Batoka travellers went down
as far as the Loangwa, and finding the Macaa tree (jujube or
zisyphus) in fruit, carried the seed all the way back to the great
Falls, in order to plant them. Two of these trees are still to be
seen there, the only specimens of the kind in that region.
The Batoka had made a near approach to the custom of more refined
nations and had permanent graveyards, either on the sides of hills,
thus rendered sacred, or under large old shady trees; they reverence
the tombs of their ancestors, and plant the largest elephants' tusks,
as monuments at the head of the grave, or entirely enclose it with
the choicest ivory. Some of the other tribes throw the dead body
into the river to be devoured by crocodiles, or, sewing it up in a
mat, place it on the branch of a baobab, or cast it in some lonely
gloomy spot, surrounded by dense tropical vegetation, where it
affords a meal to the foul hyenas; but the Batoka reverently bury
their dead, and regard the spot henceforth as sacred. The ordeal by
the poison of the muave is resorted to by the Batoka, as well as by
the other tribes; but a cock is often made to stand proxy for the
supposed witch. Near the confluence of the Kafue the Mambo, or
chief, with some of his headmen, came to our sleeping-place with a
present; their foreheads were smeared with white flour, and an
unusual seriousness marked their demeanour. Shortly before our
arrival they had been accused of witchcraft; conscious of innocence,
they accepted the ordeal, and undertook to drink the poisoned muave.
For this purpose they made a journey to the sacred hill of
Nchomokela, on which repose the bodies of their ancestors; and, after
a solemn appeal to the unseen spirits to attest the innocence of
their children, they swallowed the muave, vomited, and were therefore
declared not guilty. It is evident that they believe that the soul
has a continued existence; and that the spirits of the departed know
what those they have left behind them are doing, and are pleased or
not according as their deeds are good or evil; this belief is
universal. The owner of a large canoe refused to sell it, because it
belonged to the spirit of his father, who helped him when he killed
the hippopotamus. Another, when the bargain for his canoe was nearly
completed, seeing a large serpent on a branch of the tree overhead,
refused to complete the sale, alleging that this was the spirit of
his father come to protest against it.
Some of the Batoka chiefs must have been men of considerable
enterprise; the land of one, in the western part of this country, was
protected by the Zambesi on the S., and on the N. and E. lay an
impassable reedy marsh, filled with water all the year round, leaving
only his western border open to invasion: he conceived the idea of
digging a broad and deep canal nearly a mile in length, from the
reedy marsh to the Zambesi, and, having actually carried the scheme
into execution, he formed a large island, on which his cattle grazed
in safety, and his corn ripened from year to year secure from all
marauders.
Another chief, who died a number of years ago, believed that he had
discovered a remedy for tsetse-bitten cattle; his son Moyara showed
us a plant, which was new to our botanist, and likewise told us how
the medicine was prepared; the bark of the root, and, what might
please our homoeopathic friends, a dozen of the tsetse are dried, and
ground together into a fine powder. This mixture is administered
internally; and the cattle are fumigated by burning under them the
rest of the plant collected. The treatment must be continued for
weeks, whenever the symptoms of poison appear. This medicine, he
frankly admitted, would not cure all the bitten cattle. "For," said
he, "cattle, and men too, die in spite of medicine; but should a herd
by accident stray into a tsetse district and be bitten, by this
medicine of my father, Kampa-kampa, some of them could be saved,
while, without it, all would inevitably die." He stipulated that we
were not to show the medicine to other people, and if ever we needed
it in this region we must employ him; but if we were far off we might
make it ourselves; and when we saw it cure the cattle think of him,
and send him a present.
Our men made it known everywhere that we wished the tribes to live in
peace, and would use our influence to induce Sekeletu to prevent the
Batoka of Moshobotwane and the Makololo under-chiefs making forays
into their country: they had already suffered severely, and their
remonstrances with their countryman, Moshobotwane, evoked only the
answer, "The Makololo have given me a spear; why should I not use
it?" He, indeed, it was who, being remarkably swift of foot, first
guided the Makololo in their conquest of the country. In the
character of peacemakers, therefore, we experienced abundant
hospitality; and, from the Kafue to the Falls, none of our party was
allowed to suffer hunger. The natives sent to our sleeping-places
generous presents of the finest white meal, and fat capons to give it
a relish, great pots of beer to comfort our hearts, together with
pumpkins, beans, and tobacco, so that we "should sleep neither hungry
nor thirsty."
In travelling from the Kafue to the Zungwe we frequently passed
several villages in the course of a day's march. In the evening came
deputies from the villages, at which we could not stay to sleep, with
liberal presents of food. It would have pained them to have allowed
strangers to pass without partaking of their hospitality; repeatedly
were we hailed from huts, and asked to wait a moment and drink a
little of the beer, which was brought with alacrity. Our march
resembled a triumphant procession. We entered and left every village
amidst the cheers of its inhabitants; the men clapping their hands,
and the women lullilooing, with the shrill call, "Let us sleep," or
"Peace." Passing through a hamlet one day, our guide called to the
people, "Why do you not clap your hands and salute when you see men
who are wishing to bring peace to the land?" When we halted for the
night it was no uncommon thing for the people to prepare our camp
entirely of their own accord; some with hoes quickly smoothed the
ground for our beds, others brought dried grass and spread it
carefully over the spot; some with their small axes speedily made a
bush fence to shield us from the wind; and if, as occasionally
happened, the water was a little distance off, others hastened and
brought it with firewood to cook our food with. They are an
industrious people, and very fond of agriculture. For hours together
we marched through unbroken fields of mapira, or native corn, of a
great width; but one can give no idea of the extent of land under the
hoe as compared with any European country. The extent of surface is
so great that the largest fields under culture, when viewed on a wide
landscape, dwindle to mere spots. When taken in connection with the
wants of the people, the cultivation on the whole is most creditable
to their industry. They erect numerous granaries which give their
villages the appearance of being large; and, when the water of the
Zambesi has subsided, they place large quantities of grain, tied up
in bundles of grass, and well plastered over with clay, on low sand
islands for protection from the attacks of marauding mice and men.
Owing to the ravages of the weevil, the native corn can hardly be
preserved until the following crop comes in. However largely they
may cultivate, and however abundant the harvest, it must all be
consumed in a year. This may account for their making so much of it
into beer. The beer these Batoka or Bawe brew is not the sour and
intoxicating boala or pombe found among some other tribes, but sweet,
and highly nutritive, with only a slight degree of acidity,
sufficient to render it a pleasant drink. The people were all plump,
and in good condition; and we never saw a single case of intoxication
among them, though all drank abundance of this liting, or sweet beer.
Both men and boys were eager to work for very small pay. Our men
could hire any number of them to carry their burdens for a few beads
a day. Our miserly and dirty ex-cook had an old pair of trousers
that some one had given to him; after he had long worn them himself,
with one of the sorely decayed legs he hired a man to carry his heavy
load a whole day; a second man carried it the next day for the other
leg, and what remained of the old garment, without the buttons,
procured the labour of another man for the third day.
Men of remarkable ability have risen up among the Africans from time
to time, as amongst other portions of the human family. Some have
attracted the attention, and excited the admiration of large
districts by their wisdom. Others, apparently by the powers of
ventriloquism, or by peculiar dexterity in throwing the spear, or
shooting with the bow, have been the wonder of their generation; but
the total absence of literature leads to the loss of all former
experience, and the wisdom of the wise has not been handed down.
They have had their minstrels too, but mere tradition preserves not
their effusions. One of these, and apparently a genuine poet,
attached himself to our party for several days, and whenever we
halted, sang our praises to the villagers, in smooth and harmonious
numbers. It was a sort of blank verse, and each line consisted of
five syllables. The song was short when it first began, but each day
he picked up more information about us, and added to the poem until
our praises became an ode of respectable length. When distance from
home compelled his return he expressed his regret at leaving us, and
was, of course, paid for his useful and pleasant flatteries.
Another, though a less gifted son of song, belonged to the Batoka of
our own party. Every evening, while the others were cooking,
talking, or sleeping, he rehearsed his songs, containing a history of
everything he had seen in the land of the white men, and on the way
back. In composing, extempore, any new piece, he was never at a
loss; for if the right word did not come he halted not, but eked out
the measure with a peculiar musical sound meaning nothing at all. He
accompanied his recitations on the sansa, an instrument figured in
the woodcut, the nine iron keys of which are played with the thumbs,
while the fingers pass behind to hold it. The hollow end and
ornaments face the breast of the player. Persons of a musical turn,
if too poor to buy a sansa, may be seen playing vigorously on an
instrument made with a number of thick corn-stalks sewn together, as
a sansa frame, and keys of split bamboo, which, though making but
little sound, seems to soothe the player himself. When the
instrument is played with a calabash as a sounding board, it emits a
greater volume of sound. Pieces of shells and tin are added to make
a jingling accompaniment, and the calabash is also ornamented.
After we had passed up, a party of slaves, belonging to the two
native Portuguese who assassinated the chief, Mpangwe, and took
possession of his lands at Zumbo, followed on our footsteps, and
representing themselves to be our "children," bought great quantities
of ivory from the Bawe, for a few coarse beads a tusk. They also
purchased ten large new canoes to carry it, at the rate of six
strings of red or white beads, or two fathoms of grey calico, for
each canoe, and, at the same cheap rate, a number of good-looking
girls.
CHAPTER VII.
The Victoria Falls of the Zambesi--Marvellous grandeur of the
Cataracts--The Makololo's town--The Chief Sekeletu.
During the time we remained at Motunta a splendid meteor was observed
to lighten the whole heavens. The observer's back was turned to it,
but on looking round the streak of light was seen to remain on its
path some seconds. This streak is usually explained to be only the
continuance of the impression made by the shining body on the retina.
This cannot be, as in this case the meteor was not actually seen and
yet the streak was clearly perceived. The rays of planets and stars
also require another explanation than that usually given.
Fruit-trees and gigantic wild fig-trees, and circles of stones on
which corn safes were placed, with worn grindstones, point out where
the villages once stood. The only reason now assigned for this fine
country remaining desolate is the fear of fresh visitations by the
Matebele. The country now slopes gradually to the west into the
Makololo Valley. Two days' march from the Batoka village nearest the
highlands, we met with some hunters who were burning the dry grass,
in order to attract the game by the fresh vegetation which speedily
springs up afterwards. The grass, as already remarked, is excellent
for cattle. One species, with leaves having finely serrated edges,
and of a reddish-brown colour, we noticed our men eating: it tastes
exactly like liquorice-root, and is named kezu-kezu. The tsetse,
known to the Batoka by the name "ndoka," does not exist here, though
buffaloes and elephants abound.
A small trap in the path, baited with a mouse, to catch spotted cats
(F. Genetta), is usually the first indication that we are drawing
near to a village; but when we get within the sounds of pounding
corn, cockcrowing, or the merry shouts of children at play, we know
that the huts are but a few yards off, though the trees conceal them
from view. We reached, on the 4th of August, Moachemba, the first of
the Batoka villages which now owe allegiance to Sekeletu, and could
see distinctly with the naked eye, in the great valley spread out
before us, the columns of vapour rising from the Victoria Falls,
though upwards of 20 miles distant. We were informed that, the rains
having failed this year, the corn crops had been lost, and great
scarcity and much hunger prevailed from Sesheke to Linyanti. Some of
the reports which the men had heard from the Batoka of the hills
concerning their families, were here confirmed. Takelang's wife had
been killed by Mashotlane, the headman at the Falls, on a charge, as
usual, of witchcraft. Inchikola's two wives, believing him to be
dead, had married again; and Masakasa was intensely disgusted to hear
that two years ago his friends, upon a report of his death, threw his
shield over the Falls, slaughtered all his oxen, and held a species
of wild Irish wake, in honour of his memory: he said he meant to
disown them, and to say, when they come to salute him, "I am dead. I
am not here. I belong to another world, and should stink if I came
among you."
All the sad news we had previously heard, of the disastrous results
which followed the attempt of a party of missionaries, under the Rev.
H. Helmore, to plant the gospel at Linyanti, were here fully
confirmed. Several of the missionaries and their native attendants,
from Kuruman, had succumbed to the fever, and the survivors had
retired some weeks before our arrival. We remained the whole of the
7th beside the village of the old Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, the
stoutest man we have seen in Africa. The cause of our delay here was
a severe attack of fever in Charles Livingstone. He took a dose of
our fever pills; was better on the 8th, and marched three hours; then
on the 9th marched eight miles to the Great Falls, and spent the rest
of the day in the fatiguing exercise of sight-seeing. We were in the
very same valley as Linyanti, and this was the same fever which
treated, or rather maltreated, with only a little Dover's powder,
proved so fatal to poor Helmore; the symptoms, too, were identical
with those afterwards described by non-medical persons as those of
poison.
We gave Moshobotwane a present, and a pretty plain exposition of what
we thought of his bloody forays among his Batoka brethren. A
scolding does most good to the recipient, when put alongside some
obliging act. He certainly did not take it ill, as was evident from
what he gave us in return; which consisted of a liberal supply of
meal, milk, and an ox. He has a large herd of cattle, and a tract of
fine pasture-land on the beautiful stream Lekone. A home-feeling
comes over one, even in the interior of Africa, at seeing once more
cattle grazing peacefully in the meadows. The tsetse inhabits the
trees which bound the pasture-land on the west; so, should the
herdsman forget his duty, the cattle straying might be entirely lost.
The women of this village were more numerous than the men, the result
of the chief's marauding. The Batoko wife of Sima came up from the
Falls, to welcome her husband back, bringing a present of the best
fruits of the country. Her husband was the only one of the party who
had brought a wife from Tette, namely, the girl whom he obtained from
Chisaka for his feats of dancing. According to our ideas, his first
wife could hardly have been pleased at seeing the second and younger
one; but she took her away home with her, while the husband remained
with us. In going down to the Fall village we met several of the
real Makololo. They are lighter in colour than the other tribes,
being of a rich warm brown; and they speak in a slow deliberate
manner, distinctly pronouncing every word. On reaching the village
opposite Kalai, we had an interview with the Makololo headman,
Mashotlane: he came to the shed in which we were seated, a little
boy carrying his low three-legged stool before him: on this he sat
down with becoming dignity, looked round him for a few seconds, then
at us, and, saluting us with "Rumela" (good morning, or hail), he
gave us some boiled hippopotamus meat, took a piece himself, and then
handed the rest to his attendants, who soon ate it up. He defended
his forays on the ground that, when he went to collect tribute, the
Batoka attacked him, and killed some of his attendants. The excuses
made for their little wars are often the very same as those made by
Caesar in his "Commentaries." Few admit, like old Moshobotwane, that
they fought because they had the power, and a fair prospect of
conquering. We found here Pitsane, who had accompanied the Doctor to
St. Paul de Loanda. He had been sent by Sekeletu to purchase three
horses from a trading party of Griquas from Kuruman, who charged nine
large tusks apiece for very wretched animals.
In the evening, when all was still, one of our men, Takelang, fired
his musket, and cried out, "I am weeping for my wife: my court is
desolate: I have no home;" and then uttered a loud wail of anguish.
We proceeded next morning, 9th August, 1860, to see the Victoria
Falls. Mosi-oa-tunya is the Makololo name and means smoke sounding;
Seongo or Chongwe, meaning the Rainbow, or the place of the Rainbow,
was the more ancient term they bore. We embarked in canoes,
belonging to Tuba Mokoro, "smasher of canoes," an ominous name; but
he alone, it seems, knew the medicine which insures one against
shipwreck in the rapids above the Falls. For some miles the river
was smooth and tranquil, and we glided pleasantly over water clear as
crystal, and past lovely islands densely covered with a tropical
vegetation. Noticeable among the many trees were the lofty Hyphaene
and Borassus palms; the graceful wild date-palm, with its fruit in
golden clusters, and the umbrageous mokononga, of cypress form, with
its dark-green leaves and scarlet fruit. Many flowers peeped out
near the water's edge, some entirely new to us, and others, as the
convolvulus, old acquaintances.
But our attention was quickly called from the charming islands to the
dangerous rapids, down which Tuba might unintentionally shoot us. To
confess the truth, the very ugly aspect of these roaring rapids could
scarcely fail to cause some uneasiness in the minds of new-comers.
It is only when the river is very low, as it was now, that any one
durst venture to the island to which we were bound. If one went
during the period of flood, and fortunately hit the island, he would
be obliged to remain there till the water subsided again, if he lived
so long. Both hippopotami and elephants have been known to be swept
over the Falls, and of course smashed to pulp.
Before entering the race of waters, we were requested not to speak,
as our talking might diminish the virtue of the medicine; and no one
with such boiling eddying rapids before his eyes, would think of
disobeying the orders of a "canoe-smasher." It soon became evident
that there was sound sense in this request of Tuba's, although the
reason assigned was not unlike that of the canoe-man from Sesheke,
who begged one of our party not to whistle, because whistling made
the wind come. It was the duty of the man at the bow to look out
ahead for the proper course, and when he saw a rock or snag, to call
out to the steersman. Tuba doubtless thought that talking on board
might divert the attention of his steersman, at a time when the
neglect of an order, or a slight mistake, would be sure to spill us
all into the chafing river. There were places where the utmost
exertions of both men had to be put forth in order to force the canoe
to the only safe part of the rapid, and to prevent it from sweeping
down broadside on, where in a twinkling we should have found
ourselves floundering among the plotuses and cormorants, which were
engaged in diving for their breakfast of small fish. At times it
seemed as if nothing could save us from dashing in our headlong race
against the rocks which, now that the river was low, jutted out of
the water; but just at the very nick of time, Tuba passed the word to
the steersman, and then with ready pole turned the canoe a little
aside, and we glided swiftly past the threatened danger. Never was
canoe more admirably managed: once only did the medicine seem to
have lost something of its efficacy. We were driving swiftly down, a
black rock over which the white foam flew, lay directly in our path,
the pole was planted against it as readily as ever, but it slipped,
just as Tuba put forth his strength to turn the bow off. We struck
hard, and were half-full of water in a moment; Tuba recovered himself
as speedily, shoved off the bow, and shot the canoe into a still
shallow place, to bale out the water. Here we were given to
understand that it was not the medicine which was at fault; that had
lost none of its virtue; the accident was owing entirely to Tuba
having started without his breakfast. Need it be said we never let
Tuba go without that meal again?
We landed at the head of Garden Island, which is situated near the
middle of the river and on the lip of the Falls. On reaching that
lip, and peering over the giddy height, the wondrous and unique
character of the magnificent cascade at once burst upon us.
It is rather a hopeless task to endeavour to convey an idea of it in
words, since, as was remarked on the spot, an accomplished painter,
even by a number of views, could but impart a faint impression of the
glorious scene. The probable mode of its formation may perhaps help
to the conception of its peculiar shape. Niagara has been formed by
a wearing back of the rock over which the river falls; and during a
long course of ages, it has gradually receded, and left a broad,
deep, and pretty straight trough in front. It goes on wearing back
daily, and may yet discharge the lakes from which its river--the St.
Lawrence--flows. But the Victoria Falls have been formed by a crack
right across the river, in the hard, black, basaltic rock which there
formed the bed of the Zambesi. The lips of the crack are still quite
sharp, save about three feet of the edge over which the river rolls.
The walls go sheer down from the lips without any projecting crag, or
symptoms of stratification or dislocation. When the mighty rift
occurred, no change of level took place in the two parts of the bed
of the river thus rent asunder, consequently, in coming down the
river to Garden Island, the water suddenly disappears, and we see the
opposite side of the cleft, with grass and trees growing where once
the river ran, on the same level as that part of its bed on which we
sail. The first crack is, in length, a few yards more than the
breadth of the Zambesi, which by measurement we found to be a little
over 1860 yards, but this number we resolved to retain as indicating
the year in which the Fall was for the first time carefully examined.
The main stream here runs nearly north and south, and the cleft
across it is nearly east and west. The depth of the rift was
measured by lowering a line, to the end of which a few bullets and a
foot of white cotton cloth were tied. One of us lay with his head
over a projecting crag, and watched the descending calico, till,
after his companions had paid out 310 feet, the weight rested on a
sloping projection, probably 50 feet from the water below, the actual
bottom being still further down. The white cloth now appeared the
size of a crown-piece. On measuring the width of this deep cleft by
sextant, it was found at Garden Island, its narrowest part, to be
eighty yards, and at its broadest somewhat more. Into this chasm, of
twice the depth of Niagara-fall, the river, a full mile wide, rolls
with a deafening roar; and this is Mosi-oa-tunya, or the Victoria
Falls.
Looking from Garden Island, down to the bottom of the abyss, nearly
half a mile of water, which has fallen over that portion of the Falls
to our right, or west of our point of view, is seen collected in a
narrow channel twenty or thirty yards wide, and flowing at exactly
right angles to its previous course, to our left; while the other
half, or that which fell over the eastern portion of the Falls, is
seen in the left of the narrow channel below, coming towards our
right. Both waters unite midway, in a fearful boiling whirlpool, and
find an outlet by a crack situated at right angles to the fissure of
the Falls. This outlet is about 1170 yards from the western end of
the chasm, and some 600 from its eastern end; the whirlpool is at its
commencement. The Zambesi, now apparently not more than twenty or
thirty yards wide, rushes and surges south, through the narrow
escape-channel for 130 yards; then enters a second chasm somewhat
deeper, and nearly parallel with the first. Abandoning the bottom of
the eastern half of this second chasm to the growth of large trees,
it turns sharply off to the west, and forms a promontory, with the
escape-channel at its point, of 1170 yards long, and 416 yards broad
at the base. After reaching this base, the river runs abruptly round
the head of another promontory, and flows away to the east, in a
third chasm; then glides round a third promontory, much narrower than
the rest, and away back to the west, in a fourth chasm; and we could
see in the distance that it appeared to round still another
promontory, and bend once more in another chasm towards the east. In
this gigantic, zigzag, yet narrow trough, the rocks are all so
sharply cut and angular, that the idea at once arises that the hard
basaltic trap must have been riven into its present shape by a force
acting from beneath, and that this probably took place when the
ancient inland seas were let off by similar fissures nearer the
ocean.
The land beyond, or on the south of the Falls, retains, as already
remarked, the same level as before the rent was made. It is as if
the trough below Niagara were bent right and left, several times
before it reached the railway bridge. The land in the supposed bends
being of the same height as that above the Fall, would give standing-
places, or points of view, of the same nature as that from the
railway-bridge, but the nearest would be only eighty yards, instead
of two miles (the distance to the bridge) from the face of the
cascade. The tops of the promontories are in general flat, smooth,
and studded with trees. The first, with its base on the east, is at
one place so narrow, that it would be dangerous to walk to its
extremity. On the second, however, we found a broad rhinoceros path
and a hut; but, unless the builder were a hermit, with a pet
rhinoceros, we cannot conceive what beast or man ever went there for.
On reaching the apex of this second eastern promontory we saw the
great river, of a deep sea-green colour, now sorely compressed,
gliding away, at least 400 feet below us.
Garden Island, when the river is low, commands the best view of the
Great Fall chasm, as also of the promontory opposite, with its grove
of large evergreen trees, and brilliant rainbows of three-quarters of
a circle, two, three, and sometimes even four in number, resting on
the face of the vast perpendicular rock, down which tiny streams are
always running to be swept again back by the upward rushing vapour.
But as, at Niagara, one has to go over to the Canadian shore to see
the chief wonder--the Great Horse-shoe Fall--so here we have to cross
over to Moselekatse's side to the promontory of evergreens, for the
best view of the principal Falls of Mosi-oa-tunya. Beginning,
therefore, at the base of this promontory, and facing the Cataract,
at the west end of the chasm, there is, first, a fall of thirty-six
yards in breadth, and of course, as they all are, upwards of 310 feet
in depth. Then Boaruka, a small island, intervenes, and next comes a
great fall, with a breadth of 573 yards; a projecting rock separates
this from a second grand fall of 325 yards broad; in all, upwards of
900 yards of perennial Falls. Further east stands Garden Island;
then, as the river was at its lowest, came a good deal of the bare
rock of its bed, with a score of narrow falls, which, at the time of
flood, constitute one enormous cascade of nearly another half-mile.
Near the east end of the chasm are two larger falls, but they are
nothing at low water compared to those between the islands.
The whole body of water rolls clear over, quite unbroken; but, after
a descent of ten or more feet, the entire mass suddenly becomes like
a huge sheet of driven snow. Pieces of water leap off it in the form
of comets with tails streaming behind, till the whole snowy sheet
becomes myriads of rushing, leaping, aqueous comets. This
peculiarity was not observed by Charles Livingstone at Niagara, and
here it happens, possibly from the dryness of the atmosphere, or
whatever the cause may be which makes every drop of Zambesi water
appear to possess a sort of individuality. It runs off the ends of
the paddles, and glides in beads along the smooth surface, like drops
of quicksilver on a table. Here we see them in a conglomeration,
each with a train of pure white vapour, racing down till lost in
clouds of spray. A stone dropped in became less and less to the eye,
and at last disappeared in the dense mist below.
Charles Livingstone had seen Niagara, and gave Mosi-oa-tunya the
palm, though now at the end of a drought, and the river at its very
lowest. Many feel a disappointment on first seeing the great
American Falls, but Mosi-oa-tunya is so strange, it must ever cause
wonder. In the amount of water, Niagara probably excels, though not
during the months when the Zambesi is in flood. The vast body of
water, separating in the comet-like forms described, necessarily
encloses in its descent a large volume of air, which, forced into the
cleft, to an unknown depth, rebounds, and rushes up loaded with
vapour to form the three or even six columns, as if of steam, visible
at the Batoka village Moachemba, twenty-one miles distant. On
attaining a height of 200, or at most 300 feet from the level of the
river above the cascade, this vapour becomes condensed into a
perpetual shower of fine rain. Much of the spray, rising to the west
of Garden Island, falls on the grove of evergreen trees opposite; and
from their leaves, heavy drops are for ever falling, to form sundry
little rills, which, in running down the steep face of rock, are
blown off and turned back, or licked off their perpendicular bed, up
into the column from which they have just descended.
The morning sun gilds these columns of watery smoke with all the
glowing colours of double or treble rainbows. The evening sun, from
a hot yellow sky, imparts a sulphureous hue, and gives one the
impression that the yawning gulf might resemble the mouth of the
bottomless pit. No bird sits and sings on the branches of the grove
of perpetual showers, or ever builds its nest there. We saw
hornbills and flocks of little black weavers flying across from the
mainland to the islands, and from the islands to the points of the
promontories and back again, but they uniformly shunned the region of
perpetual rain, occupied by the evergreen grove. The sunshine,
elsewhere in this land so overpowering, never penetrates the deep
gloom of that shade. In the presence of the strange Mosi-oa-tunya,
we can sympathize with those who, when the world was young, peopled
earth, air, and river, with beings not of mortal form. Sacred to
what deity would be this awful chasm and that dark grove, over which
hovers an ever-abiding "pillar of cloud"?
The ancient Batoka chieftains used Kazeruka, now Garden Island, and
Boaruka, the island further west, also on the lip of the Falls, as
sacred spots for worshipping the Deity. It is no wonder that under
the cloudy columns, and near the brilliant rainbows, with the
ceaseless roar of the cataract, with the perpetual flow, as if
pouring forth from the hand of the Almighty, their souls should be
filled with reverential awe. It inspired wonder in the native mind
throughout the interior. Among the first questions asked by
Sebituane of Mr. Oswell and Dr. Livingstone, in 1851, was, "Have you
any smoke soundings in your country," and "what causes the smoke to
rise for ever so high out of water?" In that year its fame was heard
200 miles off, and it was approached within two days; but it was seen
by no European till 1855, when Dr. Livingstone visited it on his way
to the East Coast. Being then accompanied as far as this Fall by
Sekeletu and 200 followers, his stay was necessarily short; and the
two days there were employed in observations for fixing the
geographical position of the place, and turning the showers, that at
times sweep from the columns of vapour across the island, to account,
in teaching the Makololo arboriculture, and making that garden from
which the natives named the island; so that he did not visit the
opposite sides of the cleft, nor see the wonderful course of the
river beyond the Falls. The hippopotami had destroyed the trees
which were then planted; and, though a strong stockaded hedge was
made again, and living orange-trees, cashew-nuts, and coffee seeds
put in afresh, we fear that the perseverance of the hippopotami will
overcome the obstacle of the hedge. It would require a resident
missionary to rear European fruit-trees. The period at which the
peach and apricot come into blossom is about the end of the dry
season, and artificial irrigation is necessary. The Batoka, the only
arboriculturists in the country, rear native fruit-trees alone--the
mosibe, the motsikiri, the boma, and others. When a tribe takes an
interest in trees, it becomes more attached to the spot on which they
are planted, and they prove one of the civilizing influences.
Where one Englishman goes, others are sure to follow. Mr. Baldwin, a
gentleman from Natal, succeeded in reaching the Falls guided by his
pocket-compass alone. On meeting the second subject of Her Majesty,
who had ever beheld the greatest of African wonders, we found him a
sort of prisoner at large. He had called on Mashotlane to ferry him
over to the north side of the river, and, when nearly over, he took a
bath, by jumping in and swimming ashore. "If," said Mashotlane, "he
had been devoured by one of the crocodiles which abound there, the
English would have blamed us for his death. He nearly inflicted a
great injury upon us, therefore, we said, he must pay a fine." As
Mr. Baldwin had nothing with him wherewith to pay, they were taking
care of him till he should receive beads from his wagon, two days
distant.
Mashotlane's education had been received in the camp of Sebituane,
where but little regard was paid to human life. He was not yet in
his prime, and his fine open countenance presented to us no
indication of the evil influences which unhappily, from infancy, had
been at work on his mind. The native eye was more penetrating than
ours; for the expression of our men was, "He has drunk the blood of
men--you may see it in his eyes." He made no further difficulty
about Mr. Baldwin; but the week after we left he inflicted a severe
wound on the head of one of his wives with his rhinoceros-horn club.
She, being of a good family, left him, and we subsequently met her
and another of his wives proceeding up the country.
The ground is strewn with agates for a number of miles above the
Falls; but the fires, which burn off the grass yearly, have injured
most of those on the surface. Our men were delighted to hear that
they do as well as flints for muskets; and this with the new ideas of
the value of gold (dalama) and malachite, that they had acquired at
Tette, made them conceive that we were not altogether silly in
picking up and looking at stones.
Marching up the river, we crossed the Lekone at its confluence, about
eight miles above the island Kalai, and went on to a village opposite
the Island Chundu. Nambowe, the headman, is one of the Matebele or
Zulus, who have had to flee from the anger of Moselekatse, to take
refuge with the Makololo.
We spent Sunday, the 12th, at the village of Molele, a tall old
Batoka, who was proud of having formerly been a great favourite with
Sebituane. In coming hither we passed through patches of forest
abounding in all sorts of game. The elephants' tusks, placed over
graves, are now allowed to decay, and the skulls, which the former
Batoka stuck on poles to ornament their villages, not being renewed,
now crumble into dust. Here the famine, of which we had heard,
became apparent, Molele's people being employed in digging up the
tsitla root out of the marshes, and cutting out the soft core of the
young palm-trees, for food.
The village, situated on the side of a wooded ridge, commands an
extensive view of a great expanse of meadow and marsh lying along the
bank of the river. On these holmes herds of buffaloes and waterbucks
daily graze in security, as they have in the reedy marshes a refuge
into which they can run on the approach of danger. The pretty little
tianyane or ourebi is abundant further on, and herds of blue
weldebeests or brindled gnus (Katoblepas Gorgon) amused us by their
fantastic capers. They present a much more ferocious aspect than the
lion himself, but are quite timid. We never could, by waving a red
handkerchief, according to the prescription, induce them to venture
near to us. It may therefore be that the red colour excites their
fury only when wounded or hotly pursued. Herds of lechee or lechwe
now enliven the meadows; and they and their younger brother, the
graceful poku, smaller, and of a rounder contour, race together
towards the grassy fens. We venture to call the poku after the late
Major Vardon, a noble-hearted African traveller; but fully anticipate
that some aspiring Nimrod will prefer that his own name should go
down to posterity on the back of this buck.
Midway between Tabacheu and the Great Falls the streams begin to flow
westward. On the other side they begin to flow east. Large round
masses of granite, somewhat like old castles, tower aloft about the
Kalomo. The country is an elevated plateau, and our men knew and
named the different plains as we passed them by.
On the 13th we met a party from Sekeletu, who was now at Sesheke.
Our approach had been reported, and they had been sent to ask the
Doctor what the price of a horse ought to be; and what he said, that
they were to give and no more. In reply they were told that by their
having given nine large tusks for one horse before the Doctor came,
the Griquas would naturally imagine that the price was already
settled. It was exceedingly amusing to witness the exact imitation
they gave of the swagger of a certain white with whom they had been
dealing, and who had, as they had perceived, evidently wished to
assume an air of indifference. Holding up the head and scratching
the beard it was hinted might indicate not indifference, but vermin.
It is well that we do not always know what they say about us. The
remarks are often not quite complimentary, and resemble closely what
certain white travellers say about the blacks.
We made our camp in the afternoon abreast of the large island called
Mparira, opposite the mouth of the Chobe. Francolins, quails, and
guinea-fowls, as well as larger game, were abundant. The Makololo
headman, Mokompa, brought us a liberal present; and in the usual way,
which is considered politeness, regretted he had no milk, as his cows
were all dry. We got some honey here from the very small stingless
bee, called, by the Batoka, moandi, and by others, the kokomatsane.
This honey is slightly acid, and has an aromatic flavour. The bees
are easily known from their habit of buzzing about the eyes, and
tickling the skin by sucking it as common flies do. The hive has a
tube of wax like a quill, for its entrance, and is usually in the
hollows of trees.
Mokompa feared that the tribe was breaking up, and lamented the
condition into which they had fallen in consequence of Sekeletu's
leprosy; he did not know what was to become of them. He sent two
canoes to take us up to Sesheke; his best canoe had taken ivory up to
the chief, to purchase goods of some native traders from Benguela.
Above the Falls the paddlers always stand in the canoes, using long
paddles, ten feet in length, and changing from side to side without
losing the stroke.
Mochokotsa, a messenger from Sekeletu, met us on the 17th, with
another request for the Doctor to take ivory and purchase a horse.
He again declined to interfere. None were to come up to Sekeletu but
the Doctor; and all the men who had had smallpox at Tette, three
years ago, were to go back to Moshobotwane, and he would sprinkle
medicine over them, to drive away the infection, and prevent it
spreading in the tribe. Mochokotsa was told to say to Sekeletu that
the disease was known of old to white men, and we even knew the
medicine to prevent it; and, were there any danger now, we should be
the first to warn him of it. Why did not he go himself to have
Moshobotwane sprinkle medicine to drive away his leprosy. We were
not afraid of his disease, nor of the fever that had killed the
teachers and many Makololo at Linyanti. As this attempt at
quarantine was evidently the suggestion of native doctors to increase
their own importance, we added that we had no food, and would hunt
next day for game, and the day after; and, should we be still ordered
purification by their medicine, we should then return to our own
country.
The message was not all of our dictation, our companions interlarded
it with their own indignant protests, and said some strong things in
the Tette dialect about these "doctor things" keeping them back from
seeing their father; when to their surprise Mochokotsa told them he
knew every word they were saying, as he was of the tribe Bazizulu,
and defied them to deceive him by any dialect, either of the Mashona
on the east, or of the Mambari on the west. Mochokotsa then repeated
our message twice, to be sure that he had it every word, and went
back again. These chiefs' messengers have most retentive memories;
they carry messages of considerable length great distances, and
deliver them almost word for word. Two or three usually go together,
and when on the way the message is rehearsed every night, in order
that the exact words may be kept to. One of the native objections to
learning to write is, that these men answer the purpose of
transmitting intelligence to a distance as well as a letter would;
and, if a person wishes to communicate with any one in the town, the
best way to do so is either to go to or send for him. And as for
corresponding with friends very far off, that is all very well for
white people, but the blacks have no friends to whom to write. The
only effective argument for the learning to read is, that it is their
duty to know the revelation from their Father in Heaven, as it stands
in the Book.
Our messenger returned on the evening of the following day with "You
speak truly," says Sekeletu, "the disease is old, come on at once, do
not sleep in the path; for I am greatly desirous (tlologelecoe) to
see the Doctor."
After Mochokotsa left us, we met some of Mokompa's men bringing back
the ivory, as horses were preferred to the West-Coast goods. They
were the bearers of instructions to Mokompa, and as these
instructions illustrate the government of people who have learned
scarcely anything from Europeans, they are inserted, though otherwise
of no importance. Mashotlane had not behaved so civilly to Mr.
Baldwin as Sekeletu had ordered him to do to all Englishmen. He had
been very uncivil to the messengers sent by Moselekatse with letters
from Mr. Moffat, treated them as spies, and would not land to take
the bag until they moved off. On our speaking to him about this, he
justified his conduct on the plea that he was set at the Falls for
the very purpose of watching these, their natural enemies; and how
was he to know that they had been sent by Mr. Moffat? Our men
thereupon reported at head-quarters that Mashotlane had cursed the
Doctor. The instructions to Mokompa, from Sekeletu, were to "go and
tell Mashotlane that he had offended greatly. He had not cursed
Monare (Dr. Livingstone) but Sebituane, as Monare was now in the
place of Sebituane, and he reverenced him as he had done his father.
Any fine taken from Mr. Baldwin was to be returned at once, as he was
not a Boer but an Englishman. Sekeletu was very angry, and Mokompa
must not conceal the message."
On finding afterwards that Mashotlane's conduct had been most
outrageous to the Batoka, Sekeletu sent for him to come to Sesheke,
in order that he might have him more under his own eye; but
Mashotlane, fearing that this meant the punishment of death, sent a
polite answer, alleging that he was ill and unable to travel.
Sekeletu tried again to remove Mashotlane from the Falls, but without
success. In theory the chief is absolute and quite despotic; in
practice his authority is limited, and he cannot, without
occasionally putting refractory headmen to death, force his
subordinates to do his will.
Except the small rapids by Mparira island, near the mouth of the
Chobe, the rest of the way to Sesheke by water is smooth. Herds of
cattle of two or three varieties graze on the islands in the river:
the Batoka possessed a very small breed of beautiful shape, and
remarkably tame, and many may still be seen; a larger kind, many of
which have horns pendent, and loose at the roots; and a still larger
sort, with horns of extraordinary dimensions,--apparently a burden
for the beast to carry. This breed was found in abundance at Lake
Ngami. We stopped at noon at one of the cattle-posts of Mokompa, and
had a refreshing drink of milk. Men of his standing have usually
several herds placed at different spots, and the owner visits each in
turn, while his head-quarters are at his village. His son, a boy of
ten, had charge of the establishment during his father's absence.
According to Makololo ideas, the cattle-post is the proper school in
which sons should be brought up. Here they receive the right sort of
education--the knowledge of pasture and how to manage cattle.
Strong easterly winds blow daily from noon till midnight, and
continue till the October or November rains set in. Whirlwinds,
raising huge pillars of smoke from burning grass and weeds, are
common in the forenoon. We were nearly caught in an immense one. It
crossed about twenty yards in front of us, the wind apparently
rushing into it from all points of the compass. Whirling round and
round in great eddies, it swept up hundreds of feet into the air a
continuous dense dark cloud of the black pulverized soil, mixed with
dried grass, off the plain. Herds of the new antelopes, lechwe, and
poku, with the kokong, or gnus, and zebras stood gazing at us as we
passed. The mirage lifted them at times halfway to the clouds, and
twisted them and the clumps of palms into strange unearthly forms.
The extensive and rich level plains by the banks, along the sides of
which we paddled, would support a vast population, and might be
easily irrigated from the Zambesi. If watered, they would yield
crops all the year round, and never suffer loss by drought. The
hippopotamus is killed here with long lance-like spears. We saw two
men, in a light canoe, stealing noiselessly down on one of these
animals thought to be asleep; but it was on the alert, and they had
quickly to retreat. Comparatively few of these animals now remain
between Sesheke and the Falls, and they are uncommonly wary, as it is
certain death for one to be caught napping in the daytime.
On the 18th we entered Sesheke. The old town, now in ruins, stands
on the left bank of the river. The people have built another on the
same side, a quarter of a mile higher up, since their headman
Moriantsiane was put to death for bewitching the chief with leprosy.
Sekeletu was on the right bank, near a number of temporary huts. A
man hailed us from the chiefs quarters, and requested us to rest
under the old Kotla, or public meeting-place tree. A young Makololo,
with the large thighs which Zulus and most of this tribe have,
crossed over to receive orders from the chief, who had not shown
himself to the people since he was affected with leprosy. On
returning he ran for Mokele, the headman of the new town, who, after
going over to Sekeletu, came back and conducted us to a small but
good hut, and afterwards brought us a fine fat ox, as a present from
the chief. "This is a time of hunger," he said, "and we have no
meat, but we expect some soon from the Barotse Valley." We were
entirely out of food when we reached Sesheke. Never was better meat
than that of the ox Sekeletu sent, and infinitely above the flesh of
all kinds of game is beef!
A constant stream of visitors rolled in on us the day after our
arrival. Several of them, who had suffered affliction during the
Doctor's absence, seemed to be much affected on seeing him again.
All were in low spirits. A severe drought had cut off the crops, and
destroyed the pasture of Linyanti, and the people were scattered over
the country in search of wild fruits, and the hospitality of those
whose ground-nuts (Arachis hypogoea) had not failed. Sekeletu's
leprosy brought troops of evils in its train. Believing himself
bewitched, he had suspected a number of his chief men, and had put
some, with their families, to death; others had fled to distant
tribes, and were living in exile. The chief had shut himself up, and
allowed no one to come into his presence but his uncle Mamire.
Ponwane, who had been as "head and eyes" to him, had just died;
evidence, he thought, of the potent spells of those who hated all who
loved the chief. The country was suffering grievously, and
Sebituane's grand empire was crumbling to pieces. A large body of
young Barotse had revolted and fled to the north; killing a man by
the way, in order to put a blood-feud between Masiko, the chief to
whom they were going, and Sekeletu. The Batoka under Sinamane, and
Muemba, were independent, and Mashotlane at the Falls was setting
Sekeletu's authority virtually at defiance. Sebituane's wise policy
in treating the conquered tribes on equal terms with his own
Makololo, as all children of the chief, and equally eligible to the
highest honours, had been abandoned by his son, who married none but
Makololo women, and appointed to office none but Makololo men. He
had become unpopular among the black tribes, conquered by the spear
but more effectually won by the subsequent wise and just government
of his father.
Strange rumours were afloat respecting the unseen Sekeletu; his
fingers were said to have grown like eagle's claws, and his face so
frightfully distorted that no one could recognize him. Some had
begun to hint that he might not really be the son of the great
Sebituane, the founder of the nation, strong in battle, and wise in
the affairs of state. "In the days of the Great Lion" (Sebituane),
said his only sister, Moriantsiane's widow, whose husband Sekeletu
had killed, "we had chiefs and little chiefs and elders to carry on
the government, and the great chief, Sebituane, knew them all, and
everything they did, and the whole country was wisely ruled; but now
Sekeletu knows nothing of what his underlings do, and they care not
for him, and the Makololo power is fast passing away." {3}
The native doctors had given the case of Sekeletu up. They could not
cure him, and pronounced the disease incurable. An old doctress from
the Manyeti tribe had come to see what she could do for him, and on
her skill he now hung his last hopes. She allowed no one to see him,
except his mother and uncle, making entire seclusion from society an
essential condition of the much longed-for cure. He sent,
notwithstanding, for the Doctor; and on the following day we all
three were permitted to see him. He was sitting in a covered wagon,
which was enclosed by a high wall of close-set reeds; his face was
only slightly disfigured by the thickening of the skin in parts,
where the leprosy had passed over it; and the only peculiarity about
his hands was the extreme length of his finger-nails, which, however,
was nothing very much out of the way, as all the Makololo gentlemen
wear them uncommonly long. He has the quiet, unassuming manners of
his father, Sebituane, speaks distinctly, in a low pleasant voice,
and appears to be a sensible man, except perhaps on the subject of
his having been bewitched; and in this, when alluded to, he exhibits
as firm a belief as if it were his monomania. "Moriantsiane, my
aunt's husband, tried the bewitching medicine first on his wife, and
she is leprous, and so is her head-servant; then, seeing that it
succeeded, he gave me a stronger dose in the cooked flesh of a goat,
and I have had the disease ever since. They have lately killed
Ponwane, and, as you see, are now killing me." Ponwane had died of
fever a short time previously. Sekeletu asked us for medicine and
medical attendance, but we did not like to take the case out of the
hands of the female physician already employed, it being bad policy
to appear to undervalue any of the profession; and she, being anxious
to go on with her remedies, said "she had not given him up yet, but
would try for another month; if he was not cured by that time, then
she would hand him over to the white doctors." But we intended to
leave the country before a month was up; so Mamire, with others,
induced the old lady to suspend her treatment for a little. She
remained, as the doctors stipulated, in the chief's establishment,
and on full pay.
Sekeletu was told plainly that the disease was unknown in our
country, and was thought exceedingly obstinate of cure; that we did
not believe in his being bewitched, and we were willing to do all we
could to help him. This was a case for disinterested benevolence; no
pay was expected, but considerable risk incurred; yet we could not
decline it, as we had the trading in horses. Having, however, none
of the medicines usually employed in skin diseases with us, we tried
the local application of lunar caustic, and hydriodate of potash
internally; and with such gratifying results, that Mamire wished the
patient to be smeared all over with a solution of lunar caustic,
which he believed to be of the same nature as the blistering fluid
formerly applied to his own knee by Mr. Oswell. ITS power he
considered irresistible, and he would fain have had anything like it
tried on Sekeletu.
It was a time of great scarcity and hunger, but Sekeletu treated us
hospitably, preparing tea for us at every visit we paid him. With
the tea we had excellent American biscuit and preserved fruits, which
had been brought to him all the way from Benguela. The fruits he
most relished were those preserved in their own juices; plums,
apples, pears, strawberries, and peaches, which we have seen only
among Portuguese and Spaniards. It made us anxious to plant the
fruit-tree seeds we had brought, and all were pleased with the idea
of having these same fruits in their own country.
Mokele, the headman of Sesheke, and Sebituane's sister, Manchunyane,
were ordered to provide us with food, as Sekeletu's wives, to whom
this duty properly belonged, were at Linyanti. We found a black
trader from the West Coast, and some Griqua traders from the South,
both in search of ivory. Ivory is dear at Sesheke; but cheaper in
the Batoka country, from Sinamane's to the Kafue, than anywhere else.
The trader from Benguela took orders for goods for his next year's
trip, and offered to bring tea, coffee, and sugar at cent. per cent.
prices. As, in consequence of a hint formerly given, the Makololo
had secured all the ivory in the Batoga country to the east, by
purchasing it with hoes, the Benguela traders found it unprofitable
to go thither for slaves. They assured us that without ivory the
trade in slaves did not pay. In this way, and by the orders of
Sekeletu, an extensive slave-mart was closed. These orders were
never infringed except secretly. We discovered only two or three
cases of their infraction.
Sekeletu was well pleased with the various articles we brought for
him, and inquired if a ship could not bring his sugar-mill and the
other goods we had been obliged to leave behind at Tette. On hearing
that there was a possibility of a powerful steamer ascending as far
as Sinamane's, but never above the Grand Victoria Falls, he asked,
with charming simplicity, if a cannon could not blow away the Falls,
so as to allow the vessel to come up to Sesheke.
To save the tribe from breaking up, by the continual loss of real
Makololo, it ought at once to remove to the healthy Batoka highlands,
near the Kafue. Fully aware of this, Sekeletu remarked that all his
people, save two, were convinced that, if they remained in the
lowlands, a few years would suffice to cut off all the real Makololo;
they came originally from the healthy South, near the confluence of
the Likwa and Namagari, where fever is almost unknown, and its
ravages had been as frightful among them here, as amongst Europeans
on the Coast. Sebituane's sister described its first appearance
among the tribe, after their settling in the Barotse Valley on the
Zambesi. Many of them were seized with a shivering sickness, as if
from excessive cold; they had never seen the like before. They made
great fires, and laid the shivering wretches down before them; but,
pile on wood as they might, they could not raise heat enough to drive
the cold out of the bodies of the sufferers, and they shivered on
till they died. But, though all preferred the highlands, they were
afraid to go there, lest the Matebele should come and rob them of
their much-loved cattle. Sebituane, with all his veterans, could not
withstand that enemy; and how could they be resisted, now that most
of the brave warriors were dead? The young men would break, and run
away the moment they saw the terrible Matebele, being as much afraid
of them as the black conquered tribes are of the Makololo. "But if
the Doctor and his wife," said the chiefs and counsellors, "would
come and live with us, we would remove to the highlands at once, as
Moselekatse would not attack a place where the daughter of his
friend, Moffat, was living."
The Makololo are by far the most intelligent and enterprising of the
tribes we have met. None but brave and daring men remained long with
Sebituane, his stern discipline soon eradicated cowardice from his
army. Death was the inevitable doom of the coward. If the chief saw
a man running away from the fight, he rushed after him with amazing
speed, and cut him down; or waited till he returned to the town, and
then summoned the deserter into his presence. "You did not wish to
die on the field, you wished to die at home, did you? you shall have
your wish!" and he was instantly led off and executed. The present
race of young men are inferior in most respects to their fathers.
The old Makololo had many manly virtues; they were truthful, and
never stole, excepting in what they considered the honourable way of
lifting cattle in fair fight. But this can hardly be said of their
sons; who, having been brought up among the subjected tribes, have
acquired some of the vices peculiar to a menial and degraded race. A
few of the old Makololo cautioned us not to leave any of our property
exposed, as the blacks were great thieves; and some of our own men
advised us to be on our guard, as the Makololo also would steal. A
very few trifling articles were stolen by a young Makololo; and he,
on being spoken to on the subject, showed great ingenuity in excusing
himself, by a plausible and untruthful story. The Makololo of old
were hard workers, and did not consider labour as beneath them; but
their sons never work, regarding it as fit only for the Mashona and
Makalaka servants. Sebituane, seeing that the rival tribes had the
advantage over his, in knowing how to manage canoes, had his warriors
taught to navigate; and his own son, with his companions, paddled the
chief's canoe. All the dishes, baskets, stools, and canoes are made
by the black tribes called Manyeti and Matlotlora. The houses are
built by the women and servants. The Makololo women are vastly
superior to any we have yet seen. They are of a light warm brown
complexion, have pleasant countenances, and are remarkably quick of
apprehension. They dress neatly, wearing a kilt and mantle, and have
many ornaments. Sebituane's sister, the head lady of Sesheke, wore
eighteen solid brass rings, as thick as one's finger, on each leg,
and three of copper under each knee; nineteen brass rings on her left
arm, and eight of brass and copper on her right, also a large ivory
ring above each elbow. She had a pretty bead necklace, and a bead
sash encircled her waist. The weight of the bright brass rings round
her legs impeded her walking, and chafed her ankles; but, as it was
the fashion, she did not mind the inconvenience, and guarded against
the pain by putting soft rag round the lower rings.
Justice appears upon the whole to be pretty fairly administered among
the Makololo. A headman took some beads and a blanket from one of
his men who had been with us; the matter was brought before the
chief, and he immediately ordered the goods to be restored, and
decreed, moreover, that no headman should take the property of the
men who had returned. In theory, all the goods brought back belonged
to the chief; the men laid them at his feet, and made a formal offer
of them all; he looked at the articles, and told the men to keep
them. This is almost invariably the case. Tuba Mokoro, however,
fearing lest Sekeletu might take a fancy to some of his best goods,
exhibited only a few of his old and least valuable acquisitions.
Masakasa had little to show; he had committed some breach of native
law in one of the villages on the way, and paid a heavy fine rather
than have the matter brought to the Doctor's ears. Each carrier is
entitled to a portion of the goods in his bundle, though purchased by
the chief's ivory, and they never hesitate to claim their rights; but
no wages can be demanded from the chief, if he fails to respond to
the first application.
Our men, accustomed to our ways, thought that the English system of
paying a man for his labour was the only correct one, and some even
said it would be better to live under a government where life and
labour were more secure and valuable than here. While with us, they
always conducted themselves with propriety during Divine service, and
not only maintained decorum themselves, but insisted on other natives
who might be present doing the same. When Moshobotwane, the Batoka
chief, came on one occasion with a number of his men, they listened
in silence to the reading of the Bible in the Makololo tongue; but,
as soon as we all knelt down to pray, they commenced a vigorous
clapping of hands, their mode of asking a favour. Our indignant
Makololo soon silenced their noisy accompaniment, and looked with
great contempt on this display of ignorance. Nearly all our men had
learned to repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed in their
own language, and felt rather proud of being able to do so; and when
they reached home, they liked to recite them to groups of admiring
friends. Their ideas of right and wrong differ in no respect from
our own, except in their professed inability to see how it can be
improper for a man to have more than one wife. A year or two ago
several of the wives of those who had been absent with us petitioned
the chief for leave to marry again. They thought that it was of no
use waiting any longer, their husbands must be dead; but Sekeletu
refused permission; he himself had bet a number of oxen that the
Doctor would return with their husbands, and he had promised the
absent men that their wives should be kept for them. The impatient
spouses had therefore to wait a little longer. Some of them,
however, eloped with other men; the wife of Mantlanyane, for
instance, ran off and left his little boy among strangers.
Mantlanyane was very angry when he heard of it, not that he cared
much about her deserting him, for he had two other wives at Tette,
but he was indignant at her abandoning his boy.
CHAPTER VIII.
Life amongst the Makololo--Return journey--Native hospitality--A
canoe voyage on the Zambesi.
While we were at Sesheke, an ox was killed by a crocodile; a man
found the carcass floating in the river, and appropriated the meat.
When the owner heard of this, he requested him to come before the
chief, as he meant to complain of him; rather than go, the delinquent
settled the matter by giving one of his own oxen in lieu of the lost
one. A headman from near Linyanti came with a complaint that all his
people had run off, owing to the "hunger." Sekeletu said, "You must
not be left to grow lean alone, some of them must come back to you."
He had thus an order to compel their return, if he chose to put it in
force. Families frequently leave their own headman and flee to
another village, and sometimes a whole village decamps by night,
leaving the headman by himself. Sekeletu rarely interfered with the
liberty of the subject to choose his own headman, and, as it is often
the fault of the latter which causes the people to depart, it is
punishment enough for him to be left alone. Flagrant disobedience to
the chief's orders is punished with death. A Moshubia man was
ordered to cut some reeds for Sekeletu: he went off, and hid himself
for two days instead. For this he was doomed to die, and was carried
in a canoe to the middle of the river, choked, and tossed into the
stream. The spectators hooted the executioners, calling out to them
that they too would soon be carried out and strangled. Occasionally
when a man is sent to beat an offender, he tells him his object,
returns, and assures the chief he has nearly killed him. The
transgressor then keeps for a while out of sight, and the matter is
forgotten. The river here teems with monstrous crocodiles, and women
are frequently, while drawing water, carried off by these reptiles.
We met a venerable warrior, sole survivor, probably, of the Mantatee
host which threatened to invade the colony in 1824. He retained a
vivid recollection of their encounter with the Griquas: "As we
looked at the men and horses, puffs of smoke arose, and some of us
dropped down dead!" "Never saw anything like it in my life, a man's
brains lying in one place and his body in another!" They could not
understand what was killing them; a ball struck a man's shield at an
angle; knocked his arm out of joint at the shoulder; and leaving a
mark, or burn, as he said, on the shield, killed another man close
by. We saw the man with his shoulder still dislocated. Sebetuane
was present at the fight, and had an exalted opinion of the power of
white people ever afterwards.
The ancient costume of the Makololo consisted of the skin of a lamb,
kid, jackal, ocelot, or other small animal, worn round and below the
loins: and in cold weather a kaross, or skin mantle, was thrown over
the shoulders. The kaross is now laid aside, and the young men of
fashion wear a monkey-jacket and a skin round the hips; but no
trousers, waistcoat, or shirt. The river and lake tribes are in
general very cleanly, bathing several times a day. The Makololo
women use water rather sparingly, rubbing themselves with melted
butter instead: this keeps off parasites, but gives their clothes a
rancid odour. One stage of civilization often leads of necessity to
another--the possession of clothes creates a demand for soap; give a
man a needle, and he is soon back to you for thread.
This being a time of mourning, on account of the illness of the
chief, the men were negligent of their persons, they did not cut
their hair, or have merry dances, or carry spear and shield when they
walked abroad. The wife of Pitsane was busy making a large hut,
while we were in the town: she informed us that the men left house-
building entirely to the women and servants. A round tower of stakes
and reeds, nine or ten feet high, is raised and plastered; a floor is
next made of soft tufa, or ant-hill material and cowdung. This
plaster prevents the poisonous insects, called tumpans, whose bite
causes fever in some, and painful sores in all, from harbouring in
the cracks or soil. The roof, which is much larger in diameter than
the tower, is made on the ground, and then, many persons assisting,
lifted up and placed on the tower, and thatched. A plastered reed
fence is next built up to meet the outer part of the roof, which
still projects a little over this fence, and a space of three feet
remains between it and the tower. We slept in this space, instead of
in the tower, as the inner door of the hut we occupied was
uncomfortably small, being only nineteen inches high, and twenty-two
inches wide at the floor. A foot from the bottom it measured
seventeen inches in breadth, and close to the top only twelve inches,
so it was a difficult matter to get through it. The tower has no
light or ventilation, except through this small door. The reason a
lady assigned for having the doors so very small was to keep out the
mice!
The children have merry times, especially in the cool of the evening.
One of their games consists of a little girl being carried on the
shoulders of two others. She sits with outstretched arms, as they
walk about with her, and all the rest clap their hands, and stopping
before each hut sing pretty airs, some beating time on their little
kilts of cowskin, others making a curious humming sound between the
songs. Excepting this and the skipping-rope, the play of the girls
consists in imitation of the serious work of their mothers, building
little huts, making small pots, and cooking, pounding corn in
miniature mortars, or hoeing tiny gardens. The boys play with spears
of reeds pointed with wood, and small shields, or bows and arrows; or
amuse themselves in making little cattle-pens, or in moulding cattle
in clay; they show great ingenuity in the imitation of various-shaped
horns. Some too are said to use slings, but as soon as they can
watch the goats, or calves, they are sent to the field. We saw many
boys riding on the calves they had in charge, but this is an
innovation since the arrival of the English with their horses.
Tselane, one of the ladies, on observing Dr. Livingstone noting
observations on the wet and dry bulb thermometers, thought that he
too was engaged in play; for on receiving no reply to her question,
which was rather difficult to answer, as the native tongue has no
scientific terms, she said with roguish glee, "Poor thing, playing
like a little child!"
Like other Africans, the Makololo have great faith in the power of
medicine; they believe that there is an especial medicine for every
ill that flesh is heir to. Mamire is anxious to have children; he
has six wives, and only one boy, and he begs earnestly for "child
medicine." The mother of Sekeletu came from the Barotse Valley to
see her son. Thinks she has lost flesh since Dr. Livingstone was
here before, and asks for "the medicine of fatness." The Makololo
consider plumpness an essential part of beauty in women, but the
extreme stoutness, mentioned by Captain Speke, in the north, would be
considered hideous here, for the men have been overheard speaking of
a lady whom we call "inclined to embonpoint," as "fat unto ugliness."
Two packages from the Kuruman, containing letters and newspapers,
reached Linyanti previous to our arrival, and Sekeletu, not knowing
when we were coming, left them there; but now at once sent a
messenger for them. This man returned on the seventh day, having
travelled 240 geographical miles. One of the packages was too heavy
for him, and he left it behind. As the Doctor wished to get some
more medicine and papers out of the wagon left at Linyanti in 1853,
he decided upon going thither himself. The chief gave him his own
horse, now about twelve years old, and some men. He found everything
in his wagon as safe as when he left it seven years before. The
headmen, Mosale and Pekonyane, received him cordially, and lamented
that they had so little to offer him. Oh! had he only arrived the
year previous, when there was abundance of milk and corn and beer.
Very early the next morning the old town-crier, Ma-Pulenyane, of his
own accord made a public proclamation, which, in the perfect
stillness of the town long before dawn, was striking: "I have
dreamed! I have dreamed! I have dreamed! Thou Mosale and thou
Pekonyane, my lords, be not faint-hearted, nor let your hearts be
sore, but believe all the words of Monare (the Doctor) for his heart
is white as milk towards the Makololo. I dreamed that he was coming,
and that the tribe would live, if you prayed to God and give heed to
the word of Monare." Ma-Pulenyane showed Dr. Livingstone the
burying-place where poor Helmore and seven others were laid,
distinguishing those whom he had put to rest, and those for whom
Mafale had performed that last office. Nothing whatever marked the
spot, and with the native idea of HIDING the dead, it was said, "it
will soon be all overgrown with bushes, for no one will cultivate
there." None but Ma-Pulenyane approached the place, the others stood
at a respectful distance; they invariably avoid everything connected
with the dead, and no such thing as taking portions of human bodies
to make charms of, as is the custom further north, has ever been
known among the Makololo.
Sekeletu's health improved greatly during our visit, the melancholy
foreboding left his spirits, and he became cheerful, but resolutely
refused to leave his den, and appear in public till he was perfectly
cured, and had regained what he considered his good looks. He also
feared lest some of those who had bewitched him originally might
still be among the people, and neutralize our remedies. {4}
As we expected another steamer to be at Kongone in November, it was
impossible for us to remain in Sesheke more than one month. Before
our departure, the chief and his principal men expressed in a formal
manner their great desire to have English people settled on the
Batoka highlands. At one time he proposed to go as far as Phori, in
order to select a place of residence; but as he afterwards saw
reasons for remaining where he was, till his cure was completed, he
gave orders to those sent with us, in the event of our getting, on
our return, past the rapids near Tette, not to bring us to Sesheke,
but to send forward a messenger, and he with the whole tribe would
come to us. Dr. Kirk being of the same age, Sekeletu was
particularly anxious that he should come and live with him. He said
that he would cut off a section of the country for the special use of
the English; and on being told that in all probability their
descendants would cause disturbance in his country, he replied,
"These would be only domestic feuds, and of no importance." The
great extent of uncultivated land on the cool and now unpeopled
highlands has but to be seen to convince the spectator how much room
there is, and to spare, for a vastly greater population than ever, in
our day, can be congregated there.
On the last occasion of our holding Divine service at Sesheke, the
men were invited to converse on the subject on which they had been
addressed. So many of them had died since we were here before, that
not much probability existed of our all meeting again, and this had
naturally led to the subject of a future state. They replied that
they did not wish to offend the speaker, but they could not believe
that all the dead would rise again: "Can those who have been killed
in the field and devoured by the vultures; or those who have been
eaten by the hyenas or lions; or those who have been tossed into the
river, and eaten by more than one crocodile,--can they all be raised
again to life?" They were told that men could take a leaden bullet,
change it into a salt (acetate of lead), which could be dissolved as
completely in water as our bodies in the stomachs of animals, and
then reconvert it into lead; or that the bullet could be transformed
into the red and white paint of our wagons, and again be reconverted
into the original lead; and that if men exactly like themselves could
do so much, how much more could He do who has made the eye to see,
and the ear to hear! We added, however, that we believed in a
resurrection, not because we understood how it would be brought
about, but because our Heavenly Father assured us of it in His Book.
The reference to the truth of the Book and its Author seems always to
have more influence on the native mind than the cleverness of the
illustration. The knowledge of the people is scanty, but their
reasoning is generally clear as far as their information goes.
We left Sesheke on the 17th September, 1860, convoyed by Pitsane and
Leshore with their men. Pitsane was ordered by Sekeletu to make a
hedge round the garden at the Falls, to protect the seeds we had
brought; and also to collect some of the tobacco tribute below the
Falls. Leshore, besides acting as a sort of guard of honour to us,
was sent on a diplomatic mission to Sinamane. No tribute was exacted
by Sekeletu from Sinamane; but, as he had sent in his adhesion, he
was expected to act as a guard in case of the Matebele wishing to
cross and attack the Makololo. As we intended to purchase canoes of
Sinamane in which to descend the river, Leshore was to commend us to
whatever help this Batoka chief could render. It must be confessed
that Leshore's men, who were all of the black subject tribes, really
needed to be viewed by us in the most charitable light; for Leshore,
on entering any village, called out to the inhabitants, "Look out for
your property, and see that my thieves don't steal it."
Two young Makololo with their Batoka servants accompanied us to see
if Kebrabasa could be surmounted, and to bring a supply of medicine
for Sekeletu's leprosy; and half a dozen able canoe-men, under
Mobito, who had previously gone with Dr. Livingstone to Loanda, were
sent to help us in our river navigation. Some men on foot drove six
oxen which Sekeletu had given us as provisions for the journey. It
was, as before remarked, a time of scarcity; and, considering the
dearth of food, our treatment had been liberal.
By day the canoe-men are accustomed to keep close under the river's
bank from fear of the hippopotami; by night, however, they keep in
the middle of the stream, as then those animals are usually close to
the bank on their way to their grazing grounds. Our progress was
considerably impeded by the high winds, which at this season of the
year begin about eight in the morning, and blow strongly up the river
all day. The canoes were poor leaky affairs, and so low in parts of
the gunwale, that the paddlers were afraid to follow the channel when
it crossed the river, lest the waves might swamp us. A rough sea is
dreaded by all these inland canoe-men; but though timid, they are by
no means unskilful at their work. The ocean rather astonished them
afterwards; and also the admirable way that the Nyassa men managed
their canoes on a rough lake, and even amongst the breakers, where no
small boat could possibly live.
On the night of the 17th we slept on the left bank of the Majeele,
after having had all the men ferried across. An ox was slaughtered,
and not an ounce of it was left next morning. Our two young Makololo
companions, Maloka and Ramakukane, having never travelled before,
naturally clung to some of the luxuries they had been accustomed to
at home. When they lay down to sleep, their servants were called to
spread their blankets over their august persons, not forgetting their
feet. This seems to be the duty of the Makololo wife to her husband,
and strangers sometimes receive the honour. One of our party, having
wandered, slept at the village of Nambowe. When he laid down, to his
surprise two of Nambowe's wives came at once, and carefully and
kindly spread his kaross over him.
A beautiful silvery fish with reddish fins, called Ngwesi, is very
abundant in the river; large ones weigh fifteen or twenty pounds
each. Its teeth are exposed, and so arranged that, when they meet,
the edges cut a hook like nippers. The Ngwesi seems to be a very
ravenous fish. It often gulps down the Konokono, a fish armed with
serrated bones more than an inch in length in the pectoral and dorsal
fins, which, fitting into a notch at the roots, can be put by the
fish on full cock or straight out,--they cannot be folded down,
without its will, and even break in resisting. The name "Konokono,"
elbow-elbow, is given it from a resemblance its extended fins are
supposed to bear to a man's elbows stuck out from his body. It often
performs the little trick of cocking its fins in the stomach of the
Ngwesi, and, the elbows piercing its enemy's sides, he is frequently
found floating dead. The fin bones seem to have an acrid secretion
on them, for the wound they make is excessively painful. The
Konokono barks distinctly when landed with the hook. Our canoe-men
invariably picked up every dead fish they saw on the surface of the
water, however far gone. An unfragrant odour was no objection; the
fish was boiled and eaten, and the water drunk as soup. It is a
curious fact that many of the Africans keep fish as we do woodcocks,
until they are extremely offensive, before they consider them fit to
eat. Our paddlers informed us on our way down that iguanas lay their
eggs in July and August, and crocodiles in September. The eggs
remain a month or two under the sand where they are laid, and the
young come out when the rains have fairly commenced. The canoe-men
were quite positive that crocodiles frequently stun men by striking
them with their tails, and then squat on them till they are drowned.
We once caught a young crocodile, which certainly did use its tail to
inflict sharp blows, and led us to conclude that the native opinion
is correct. They believed also that, if a person shuts the beast's
eyes, it lets go its hold. Crocodiles have been known to unite and
kill a large one of their own species and eat it. Some fishermen
throw the bones of the fish into the river but in most of the fishing
villages there are heaps of them in various places. The villagers
can walk over them without getting them into their feet; but the
Makololo, from having softer soles, are unable to do so. The
explanation offered was, that the fishermen have a medicine against
fish-bones, but that they will not reveal it to the Makololo.
We spent a night on Mparira island, which is four miles long and
about one mile broad. Mokompa, the headman, was away hunting
elephants. His wife sent for him on our arrival, and he returned
next morning before we left. Taking advantage of the long-continued
drought, he had set fire to the reeds between the Chobe and Zambesi,
in such a manner as to drive the game out at one corner, where his
men laid in wait with their spears. He had killed five elephants and
three buffaloes, wounding several others which escaped.
On our land party coming up, we were told that the oxen were bitten
by the tsetse: they could see a great difference in their looks.
One was already eaten, and they now wished to slaughter another. A
third fell into a buffalo-pit next day, so our stock was soon
reduced.
The Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, again treated us with his usual
hospitality, giving us an ox, some meal, and milk. We took another
view of the grand Mosi-oa-tunya, and planted a quantity of seeds in
the garden on the island; but, as no one will renew the hedge, the
hippopotami will, doubtless, soon destroy what we planted.
Mashotlane assisted us. So much power was allowed to this under-
chief, that he appeared as if he had cast off the authority of
Sekeletu altogether. He did not show much courtesy to his
messengers; instead of giving them food, as is customary, he took the
meat out of a pot in their presence, and handed it to his own
followers. This may have been because Sekeletu's men bore an order
to him to remove to Linyanti. He had not only insulted Baldwin, but
had also driven away the Griqua traders; but this may all end in
nothing. Some of the natives here, and at Sesheke, know a few of the
low tricks of more civilized traders. A pot of milk was brought to
us one evening, which was more indebted to the Zambesi than to any
cow. Baskets of fine-looking white meal, elsewhere, had occasionally
the lower half filled with bran. Eggs are always a perilous
investment. The native idea of a good egg differs as widely from our
own as is possible on such a trifling subject. An egg is eaten here
with apparent relish, though an embryo chick be inside.
We left Mosi-oa-tunya on the 27th, and slept close to the village of
Bakwini. It is built on a ridge of loose red soil, which produces
great crops of mapira and ground-nuts; many magnificent mosibe-trees
stand near the village. Machimisi, the headman of the village,
possesses a herd of cattle and a large heart; he kept us company for
a couple of days to guide us on our way.
We had heard a good deal of a stronghold some miles below the Falls,
called Kalunda. Our return path was much nearer the Zambesi than
that of our ascent,--in fact, as near as the rough country would
allow,--but we left it twice before we reached Sinamane's, in order
to see Kalunda and a Fall called Moomba, or Moamba. The Makololo had
once dispossessed the Batoka of Kalunda, but we could not see the
fissure, or whatever it is, that rendered it a place of security, as
it was on the southern bank. The crack of the Great Falls was here
continued: the rocks are the same as further up, but perhaps less
weather-worn--and now partially stratified in great thick masses.
The country through which we were travelling was covered with a
cindery-looking volcanic tufa, and might be called "Katakaumena."
The description we received of the Moamba Falls seemed to promise
something grand. They were said to send up "smoke" in the wet
season, like Mosi-oa-tunya; but when we looked down into the cleft,
in which the dark-green narrow river still rolls, we saw, about 800
or 1000 feet below us, what, after Mosi-oa-tunya, seemed two
insignificant cataracts. It was evident that Pitsane, observing our
delight at the Victoria Falls, wished to increase our pleasure by a
second wonder. One Mosi-oa-tunya, however, is quite enough for a
continent.
We had now an opportunity of seeing more of the Batoka, than we had
on the highland route to our north. They did not wait till the
evening before offering food to the strangers. The aged wife of the
headman of a hamlet, where we rested at midday, at once kindled a
fire, and put on the cooking-pot to make porridge. Both men and
women are to be distinguished by greater roundness of feature than
the other natives, and the custom of knocking out the upper front
teeth gives at once a distinctive character to the face. Their
colour attests the greater altitude of the country in which many of
them formerly lived. Some, however, are as dark as the Bashubia and
Barotse of the great valley to their west, in which stands Sesheke,
formerly the capital of the Balui, or Bashubia.
The assertion may seem strange, yet it is none the less true, that in
all the tribes we have visited we never saw a really black person.
Different shades of brown prevail, and often with a bright bronze
tint, which no painter, except Mr. Angus, seems able to catch. Those
who inhabit elevated, dry situations, and who are not obliged to work
much in the sun, are frequently of a light warm brown, "dark but
comely." Darkness of colour is probably partly caused by the sun,
and partly by something in the climate or soil which we do not yet
know. We see something of the same sort in trout and other fish
which take their colour from the ponds or streams in which they live.
The members of our party were much less embrowned by free exposure to
the sun for years than Dr. Livingstone and his family were by passing
once from Kuruman to Cape Town, a journey which occupied only a
couple of months.
We encamped on the Kalomo, on the 1st of October, and found the
weather very much warmer than when we crossed this stream in August.
At 3 p.m. the thermometer, four feet from the ground, was 101 degrees
in the shade; the wet bulb only 61 degrees: a difference of 40
degrees. Yet, notwithstanding this extreme dryness of the
atmosphere, without a drop of rain having fallen for months, and
scarcely any dew, many of the shrubs and trees were putting forth
fresh leaves of various hues, while others made a profuse display of
lovely blossoms.
Two old and very savage buffaloes were shot for our companions on the
3rd October. Our Volunteers may feel an interest in knowing that
balls sometimes have but little effect: one buffalo fell, on
receiving a Jacob's shell; it was hit again twice, and lost a large
amount of blood; and yet it sprang up, and charged a native, who, by
great agility, had just time to climb a tree, before the maddened
beast struck it, battering-ram fashion, hard enough almost to have
split both head and tree. It paused a few seconds--drew back several
paces--glared up at the man--and then dashed at the tree again and
again, as if determined to shake him out of it. It took two more
Jacob's shells, and five other large solid rifle-balls to finish the
beast at last. These old surly buffaloes had been wandering about in
a sort of miserable fellowship; their skins were diseased and scabby,
as if leprous, and their horns atrophied or worn down to stumps--the
first was killed outright, by one Jacob's shell, the second died
hard. There is so much difference in the tenacity of life in wounded
animals of the same species, that the inquiry is suggested where the
seat of life can be?--We have seen a buffalo live long enough, after
a large bullet had passed right through the heart, to allow firm
adherent clots to be formed in the two holes.
One day's journey above Sinamane's, a mass of mountain called
Gorongue, or Golongwe, is said to cross the river, and the rent
through which the river passes is, by native report, quite fearful to
behold. The country round it is so rocky, that our companions
dreaded the fatigue, and were not much to blame, if, as is probably
the case, the way be worse than that over which we travelled. As we
trudged along over the black slag-like rocks, the almost leafless
trees affording no shade, the heat was quite as great as Europeans
could bear. It was 102 degrees in the shade, and a thermometer
placed under the tongue or armpit showed that our blood was 99.5
degrees, or 1.5 degrees hotter than that of the natives, which stood
at 98 degrees. Our shoes, however, enable us to pass over the hot
burning soil better than they can. Many of those who wear sandals
have corns on the sides of the feet, and on the heels, where the
straps pass. We have seen instances, too, where neither sandals nor
shoes were worn, of corns on the soles of the feet. It is, moreover,
not at all uncommon to see toes cocked up, as if pressed out of their
proper places; at home, we should have unhesitatingly ascribed this
to the vicious fashions perversely followed by our shoemakers.
On the 5th, after crossing some hills, we rested at the village of
Simariango. The bellows of the blacksmith here were somewhat
different from the common goatskin bags, and more like those seen in
Madagascar. They consisted of two wooden vessels, like a lady's
bandbox of small dimensions, the upper ends of which were covered
with leather, and looked something like the heads of drums, except
that the leather bagged in the centre. They were fitted with long
nozzles, through which the air was driven by working the loose
covering of the tops up and down by means of a small piece of wood
attached to their centres. The blacksmith said that tin was obtained
from a people in the north, called Marendi, and that he had made it
into bracelets; we had never heard before of tin being found in the
country.
Our course then lay down the bed of a rivulet, called Mapatizia, in
which there was much calc spar, with calcareous schist, and then the
Tette grey sandstone, which usually overlies coal. On the 6th we
arrived at the islet Chilombe, belonging to Sinamane, where the
Zambesi runs broad and smooth again, and were well received by
Sinamane himself. Never was Sunday more welcome to the weary than
this, the last we were to spend with our convoy.
We now saw many good-looking young men and women. The dresses of the
ladies are identical with those of Nubian women in Upper Egypt. To a
belt on the waist a great number of strings are attached to hang all
round the person. These fringes are about six or eight inches long.
The matrons wear in addition a skin cut like the tails of the coatee
formerly worn by our dragoons. The younger girls wear the waist-belt
exhibited in the woodcut, ornamented with shells, and have the
fringes only in front. Marauding parties of Batoka, calling
themselves Makololo, have for some time had a wholesome dread of
Sinamane's "long spears." Before going to Tette our Batoka friend,
Masakasa, was one of a party that came to steal some of the young
women; but Sinamane, to their utter astonishment, attacked them so
furiously that the survivors barely escaped with their lives.
Masakasa had to flee so fast that he threw away his shield, his
spear, and his clothes, and returned home a wiser and a sadder man.
Sinamane's people cultivate large quantities of tobacco, which they
manufacture into balls for the Makololo market. Twenty balls,
weighing about three-quarters of a pound each, are sold for a hoe.
The tobacco is planted on low moist spots on the banks of the
Zambesi; and was in flower at the time we were there, in October.
Sinamane's people appear to have abundance of food, and are all in
good condition. He could sell us only two of his canoes; but lent us
three more to carry us as far as Moemba's, where he thought others
might be purchased. They were manned by his own canoe-men, who were
to bring them back. The river is about 250 yards wide, and flows
serenely between high banks towards the North-east. Below Sinamane's
the banks are often worn down fifty feet, and composed of shingle and
gravel of igneous rocks, sometimes set in a ferruginous matrix. The
bottom is all gravel and shingle, how formed we cannot imagine,
unless in pot-holes in the deep fissure above. The bottom above the
Falls, save a few rocks close by them, is generally sandy or of soft
tufa. Every damp spot is covered with maize, pumpkins, water-melons,
tobacco, and hemp. There is a pretty numerous Batoka population on
both sides of the river. As we sailed slowly down, the people
saluted us from the banks, by clapping their hands. A headman even
hailed us, and brought a generous present of corn and pumpkins.
Moemba owns a rich island, called Mosanga, a mile in length, on which
his village stands. He has the reputation of being a brave warrior,
and is certainly a great talker; but he gave us strangers something
better than a stream of words. We received a handsome present of
corn, and the fattest goat we had ever seen; it resembled mutton.
His people were as liberal as their chief. They brought two large
baskets of corn, and a lot of tobacco, as a sort of general
contribution to the travellers. One of Sinamane's canoe-men, after
trying to get his pay, deserted here, and went back before the
stipulated time, with the story, that the Englishman had stolen the
canoes. Shortly after sunrise next morning, Sinamane came into the
village with fifty of his "long spears," evidently determined to
retake his property by force; he saw at a glance that his man had
deceived him. Moemba rallied him for coming on a wildgoose chase.
"Here are your canoes left with me, your men have all been paid, and
the Englishmen are now asking me to sell my canoes." Sinamane said
little to us; only observing that he had been deceived by his
follower. A single remark of his chief's caused the foolish fellow
to leave suddenly, evidently much frightened and crestfallen.
Sinamane had been very kind to us, and, as he was looking on when we
gave our present to Moemba, we made him also an additional offering
of some beads, and parted good friends. Moemba, having heard that we
had called the people of Sinamane together to tell them about our
Saviour's mission to man, and to pray with them, associated the idea
of Sunday with the meeting, and, before anything of the sort was
proposed, came and asked that he and his people might be "sundayed"
as well as his neighbours; and be given a little seed wheat, and
fruit-tree seeds; with which request of course we very willingly
complied. The idea of praying direct to the Supreme Being, though
not quite new to all, seems to strike their minds so forcibly that it
will not be forgotten. Sinamane said that he prayed to God, Morungo,
and made drink-offerings to him. Though he had heard of us, he had
never seen white men before.
Beautiful crowned cranes, named from their note "ma-wang," were seen
daily, and were beginning to pair. Large flocks of spur-winged
geese, or machikwe, were common. This goose is said to lay her eggs
in March. We saw also pairs of Egyptian geese, as well as a few of
the knob-nosed, or, as they are called in India, combed geese. When
the Egyptian geese, as at the present time, have young, the goslings
keep so steadily in the wake of their mother, that they look as if
they were a part of her tail; and both parents, when on land,
simulate lameness quite as well as our plovers, to draw off pursuers.
The ostrich also adopts the lapwing fashion, but no quadrupeds do:
they show fight to defend their young instead. In some places the
steep banks were dotted with the holes which lead into the nests of
bee-eaters. These birds came out in hundreds as we passed. When the
red-breasted species settle on the trees, they give them the
appearance of being covered with red foliage.
On the morning of the 12th October we passed through a wild, hilly
country, with fine wooded scenery on both sides, but thinly
inhabited. The largest trees were usually thorny acacias, of great
size and beautiful forms. As we sailed by several villages without
touching, the people became alarmed, and ran along the banks, spears
in hand. We employed one to go forward and tell Mpande of our
coming. This allayed their fears, and we went ashore, and took
breakfast near the large island with two villages on it, opposite the
mouth of the Zungwe, where we had left the Zambesi on our way up.
Mpande was sorry that he had no canoes of his own to sell, but he
would lend us two. He gave us cooked pumpkins and a water-melon.
His servant had lateral curvature of the spine. We have often seen
cases of humpback, but this was the only case of this kind of
curvature we had met with. Mpande accompanied us himself in his own
vessel, till we had an opportunity of purchasing a fine large canoe
elsewhere. We paid what was considered a large price for it: twelve
strings of blue cut glass neck beads, an equal number of large blue
ones of the size of marbles, and two yards of grey calico. Had the
beads been coarser, they would have been more valued, because such
were in fashion. Before concluding the bargain the owner said "his
bowels yearned for his canoe, and we must give a little more to stop
their yearning." This was irresistible. The trading party of
Sequasha, which we now met, had purchased ten large new canoes for
six strings of cheap coarse white beads each, or their equivalent,
four yards of calico, and had bought for the merest trifle ivory
enough to load them all. They were driving a trade in slaves also,
which was something new in this part of Africa, and likely soon to
change the character of the inhabitants. These men had been living
in clover, and were uncommonly fat and plump. When sent to trade,
slaves wisely never stint themselves of beer or anything else, which
their master's goods can buy.
The temperature of the Zambesi had increased 10 degrees since August,
being now 80 degrees. The air was as high as 96 degrees after
sunset; and, the vicinity of the water being the coolest part, we
usually made our beds close by the river's brink, though there in
danger of crocodiles. Africa differs from India in the air always
becoming cool and refreshing long before the sun returns, and there
can be no doubt that we can in this country bear exposure to the sun,
which would be fatal in India. It is probably owing to the greater
dryness of the African atmosphere that sunstroke is so rarely met
with. In twenty-two years Dr. Livingstone never met or heard of a
single case, though the protective head-dresses of India are rarely
seen.
When the water is nearly at its lowest, we occasionally meet with
small rapids which are probably not in existence during the rest of
the year. Having slept opposite the rivulet Bume, which comes from
the south, we passed the island of Nakansalo, and went down the
rapids of the same name on the 17th, and came on the morning of the
19th to the more serious ones of Nakabele, at the entrance to Kariba.
The Makololo guided the canoes admirably through the opening in the
dyke. When we entered the gorge we came on upwards of thirty
hippopotami: a bank near the entrance stretches two-thirds across
the narrowed river, and in the still place behind it they were
swimming about. Several were in the channel, and our canoe-men were
afraid to venture down among them, because, as they affirm, there is
commonly an ill-natured one in a herd, which takes a malignant
pleasure in upsetting canoes. Two or three boys on the rocks
opposite amused themselves by throwing stones at the frightened
animals, and hit several on the head. It would have been no
difficult matter to have shot the whole herd. We fired a few shots
to drive them off; the balls often glance off the skull, and no more
harm is done than when a schoolboy gets a bloody nose; we killed one,
which floated away down the rapid current, followed by a number of
men on the bank. A native called to us from the left bank, and said
that a man on his side knew how to pray to the Kariba gods, and
advised us to hire him to pray for our safety, while we were going
down the rapids, or we should certainly all be drowned. No one ever
risked his life in Kariba without first paying the river-doctor, or
priest, for his prayers. Our men asked if there was a cataract in
front, but he declined giving any information; they were not on his
side of the river; if they would come over, then he might be able to
tell them. We crossed, but he went off to the village. We then
landed and walked over the hills to have a look at Karaba before
trusting our canoes in it. The current was strong, and there was
broken water in some places, but the channel was nearly straight, and
had no cataract, so we determined to risk it. Our men visited the
village while we were gone, and were treated to beer and tobacco.
The priest who knows how to pray to the god that rules the rapids
followed us with several of his friends, and they were rather
surprised to see us pass down in safety, without the aid of his
intercession. The natives who followed the dead hippopotamus caught
it a couple of miles below, and, having made it fast to a rock, were
sitting waiting for us on the bank beside the dead animal. As there
was a considerable current there, and the rocky banks were unfit for
our beds, we took the hippopotamus in tow, telling the villagers to
follow, and we would give them most of the meat. The crocodiles
tugged so hard at the carcass, that we were soon obliged to cast it
adrift, to float down in the current, to avoid upsetting the canoe.
We had to go on so far before finding a suitable spot to spend the
night in, that the natives concluded we did not intend to share the
meat with them, and returned to the village. We slept two nights at
the place where the hippopotamus was cut up. The crocodiles had a
busy time of it in the dark, tearing away at what was left in the
river, and thrashing the water furiously with their powerful tails.
The hills on both sides of Kariba are much like those of Kebrabasa,
the strata tilted and twisted in every direction, with no level
ground.
Although the hills confine the Zambesi within a narrow channel for a
number of miles, there are no rapids beyond those near the entrance.
The river is smooth and apparently very deep. Only one single human
being was seen in the gorge, the country being too rough for culture.
Some rocks in the water, near the outlet of Kariba, at a distance
look like a fort; and such large masses dislocated, bent, and even
twisted to a remarkable degree, at once attest some tremendous
upheaving and convulsive action of nature, which probably caused
Kebrabasa, Kariba, and the Victoria Falls to assume their present
forms; it took place after the formation of the coal, that mineral
having then been tilted up. We have probably nothing equal to it in
the present quiet operations of nature.
On emerging we pitched our camp by a small stream, the Pendele, a few
miles below the gorge. The Palabi mountain stands on the western
side of the lower end of the Kariba strait; the range to which it
belongs crosses the river, and runs to the south-east. Chikumbula, a
hospitable old headman, under Nchomokela, the paramount chief of a
large district, whom we did not see, brought us next morning a great
basket of meal, and four fowls, with some beer, and a cake of salt,
"to make it taste good." Chikumbula said that the elephants plagued
them, by eating up the cotton-plants; but his people seem to be well
off.
A few days before we came, they caught three buffaloes in pitfalls in
one night, and, unable to eat them all, left one to rot. During the
night the wind changed and blew from the dead buffalo to our
sleeping-place; and a hungry lion, not at all dainty in his food,
stirred up the putrid mass, and growled and gloated over his feast,
to the disturbance of our slumbers. Game of all kinds is in most
extraordinary abundance, especially from this point to below the
Kafue, and so it is on Moselekatso's side, where there are no
inhabitants. The drought drives all the game to the river to drink.
An hour's walk on the right bank, morning or evening, reveals a
country swarming with wild animals: vast herds of pallahs, many
waterbucks, koodoos, buffaloes, wild pigs, elands, zebras, and
monkeys appear; francolins, guinea-fowls, and myriads of turtledoves
attract the eye in the covers, with the fresh spoor of elephants and
rhinoceroses, which had been at the river during the night. Every
few miles we came upon a school of hippopotami, asleep on some
shallow sandbank; their bodies, nearly all out of the water, appeared
like masses of black rock in the river. When these animals are
hunted much, they become proportionably wary, but here no hunter ever
troubles them, and they repose in security, always however taking the
precaution of sleeping just above the deep channel, into which they
can plunge when alarmed. When a shot is fired into a sleeping herd,
all start up on their feet, and stare with peculiar stolid looks of
hippopotamic surprise, and wait for another shot before dashing into
deep water. A few miles below Chikumbula's we saw a white
hippopotamus in a herd. Our men had never seen one like it before.
It was of a pinkish white, exactly like the colour of the Albino. It
seemed to be the father of a number of others, for there were many
marked with large light patches. The so-called WHITE elephant is
just such a pinkish Albino as this hippopotamus. A few miles above
Kariba we observed that, in two small hamlets, many of the
inhabitants had a similar affection of the skin. The same influence
appeared to have affected man and beast. A dark coloured
hippopotamus stood alone, as if expelled from the herd, and bit the
water, shaking his head from side to side in a most frantic manner.
When the female has twins, she is said to kill one of them.
We touched at the beautiful tree-covered island of Kalabi, opposite
where Tuba-mokoro lectured the lion in our way up. The ancestors of
the people who now inhabit this island possessed cattle. The tsetse
has taken possession of the country since "the beeves were lifted."
No one knows where these insects breed; at a certain season all
disappear, and as suddenly come back, no one knows whence. The
natives are such close observers of nature, that their ignorance in
this case surprised us. A solitary hippopotamus had selected the
little bay in which we landed, and where the women drew water, for
his dwelling-place. Pretty little lizards, with light blue and red
tails, run among the rocks, catching flies and other insects. These
harmless--though to new-comers repulsive--creatures sometimes perform
good service to man, by eating great numbers of the destructive white
ants.
At noon on the 24th October, we found Sequasha in a village below the
Kafue, with the main body of his people. He said that 210 elephants
had been killed during his trip; many of his men being excellent
hunters. The numbers of animals we saw renders this possible. He
reported that, after reaching the Kafue, he went northwards into the
country of the Zulus, whose ancestors formerly migrated from the
south and set up a sort of Republican form of government. Sequasha
is the greatest Portuguese traveller we ever became acquainted with,
and he boasts that he is able to speak a dozen different dialects;
yet, unfortunately, he can give but a very meagre account of the
countries and people he has seen, and his statements are not very
much to be relied on. But considering the influence among which he
has been reared, and the want of the means of education at Tette, it
is a wonder that he possesses the good traits that he sometimes
exhibits. Among his wares were several cheap American clocks; a
useless investment rather, for a part of Africa where no one cares
for the artificial measurement of time. These clocks got him into
trouble among the Banyai: he set them all agoing in the presence of
a chief, who became frightened at the strange sounds they made, and
looked upon them as so many witchcraft agencies at work to bring all
manner of evils upon himself and his people. Sequasha, it was
decided, had been guilty of a milando, or crime, and he had to pay a
heavy fine of cloth and beads for his exhibition. He alluded to our
having heard that he had killed Mpangwe, and he denied having
actually done so; but in his absence his name had got mixed up in the
affair, in consequence of his slaves, while drinking beer one night
with Namakusuru, the man who succeeded Mpangwe, saying that they
would kill the chief for him. His partner had not thought of this
when we saw him on the way up, for he tried to excuse the murder, by
saying that now they had put the right man into the chieftainship.
After three hours' sail, on the morning of the 29th, the river was
narrowed again by the mountains of Mburuma, called Karivua, into one
channel, and another rapid dimly appeared. It was formed by two
currents guided by rocks to the centre. In going down it, the men
sent by Sekeletu behaved very nobly. The canoes entered without
previous survey, and the huge jobbling waves of mid-current began at
once to fill them. With great presence of mind, and without a
moment's hesitation, two men lightened each by jumping overboard;
they then ordered a Botoka man to do the same, as "the white men must
be saved." "I cannot swim," said the Batoka. "Jump out, then, and
hold on to the canoe;" which he instantly did. Swimming alongside,
they guided the swamping canoes down the swift current to the foot of
the rapid, and then ran them ashore to bale them out. A boat could
have passed down safely, but our canoes were not a foot above the
water at the gunwales.
Thanks to the bravery of these poor fellows, nothing was lost,
although everything was well soaked. This rapid is nearly opposite
the west end of the Mburuma mountains or Karivua. Another soon
begins below it. They are said to be all smoothed over when the
river rises. The canoes had to be unloaded at this the worst rapid,
and the goods carried about a hundred yards. By taking the time in
which a piece of stick floated past 100 feet, we found the current to
be running six knots, by far the greatest velocity noted in the
river. As the men were bringing the last canoe down close to the
shore, the stern swung round into the current, and all except one man
let go, rather than be dragged off. He clung to the bow, and was
swept out into the middle of the stream. Having held on when he
ought to have let go, he next put his life in jeopardy by letting go
when he ought to have held on; and was in a few seconds swallowed up
by a fearful whirlpool. His comrades launched out a canoe below, and
caught him as he rose the third time to the surface, and saved him,
though much exhausted and very cold.
The scenery of this pass reminded us of Kebrabasa, although it is
much inferior. A band of the same black shining glaze runs along the
rocks about two feet from the water's edge. There was not a blade of
grass on some of the hills, it being the end of the usual dry season
succeeding a previous severe drought; yet the hill-sides were dotted
over with beautiful green trees. A few antelopes were seen on the
rugged slopes, where some people too appeared lying down, taking a
cup of beer. The Karivua narrows are about thirty miles in length.
They end at the mountain Roganora. Two rocks, twelve or fifteen feet
above the water at the time we were there, may in flood be covered
and dangerous. Our chief danger was the wind, a very slight ripple
being sufficient to swamp canoes.
CHAPTER IX.
The waterbuck--Disaster in Kebrabasa rapids--The "Ma Robert"
founders--Arrival of the "Pioneer" and Bishop Mackenzie's party--
Portuguese slave-trade--Interference and liberation.
We arrived at Zumbo, at the mouth of the Loangwa, on the 1st of
November. The water being scarcely up to the knee, our land party
waded this river with ease. A buffalo was shot on an island opposite
Pangola's, the ball lodging in the spleen. It was found to have been
wounded in the same organ previously, for an iron bullet was imbedded
in it, and the wound entirely healed. A great deal of the plant
Pistia stratiotes was seen floating in the river. Many people
inhabit the right bank about this part, yet the game is very
abundant.
As we were taking our breakfast on the morning of the 2nd, the Mambo
Kazai, of whom we knew nothing, and his men came with their muskets
and large powder-horns to levy a fine, and obtain payment for the
wood we used in cooking. But on our replying to his demand that we
were English, "Oh! are you?" he said; "I thought you were Bazungu
(Portuguese). They are the people I take payments from:" and he
apologized for his mistake. Bazungu, or Azungu, is a term applied to
all foreigners of a light colour, and to Arabs; even to trading
slaves if clothed; it probably means foreigners, or visitors,--from
zunga, to visit or wander,--and the Portuguese were the only
foreigners these men had ever seen. As we had no desire to pass for
people of that nation--quite the contrary--we usually made a broad
line of demarcation by saying that we were English, and the English
neither bought, sold, nor held black people as slaves, but wished to
put a stop to the slave-trade altogether.
We called upon our friend, Mpende, in passing. He provided a hut for
us, with new mats spread on the floor. Having told him that we were
hurrying on because the rains were near, "Are they near?" eagerly
inquired an old counsellor, "and are we to have plenty of rain this
year?" We could only say that it was about the usual time for the
rains to commence; and that there were the usual indications in great
abundance of clouds floating westwards, but that we knew nothing more
than they did themselves.
The hippopotami are more wary here than higher up, as the natives
hunt them with guns. Having shot one on a shallow sandbank, our men
undertook to bring it over to the left bank, in order to cut it up
with greater ease. It was a fine fat one, and all rejoiced in the
hope of eating the fat for butter, with our hard dry cakes of native
meal. Our cook was sent over to cut a choice piece for dinner, but
returned with the astonishing intelligence that the carcass was gone.
They had been hoodwinked, and were very much ashamed of themselves.
A number of Banyai came to assist in rolling it ashore, and asserted
that it was all shallow water. They rolled it over and over towards
the land, and, finding the rope we had made fast to it, as they said,
an encumbrance, it was unloosed. All were shouting and talking as
loud as they could bawl, when suddenly our expected feast plumped
into a deep hole, as the Banyai intended it should do. When sinking,
all the Makololo jumped in after it. One caught frantically at the
tail; another grasped a foot; a third seized the hip; "but, by
Sebituane, it would go down in spite of all that we could do."
Instead of a fat hippopotamus we had only a lean fowl for dinner, and
were glad enough to get even that. The hippopotamus, however,
floated during the night, and was found about a mile below. The
Banyai then assembled on the bank, and disputed our right to the
beast: "It might have been shot by somebody else." Our men took a
little of it and then left it, rather than come into collision with
them.
A fine waterbuck was shot in the Kakolole narrows, at Mount
Manyerere; it dropped beside the creek where it was feeding; an
enormous crocodile, that had been watching it at the moment, seized
and dragged it into the water, which was not very deep. The mortally
wounded animal made a desperate plunge, and hauling the crocodile
several yards tore itself out of the hideous jaws. To escape the
hunter, the waterbuck jumped into the river, and was swimming across,
when another crocodile gave chase, but a ball soon sent it to the
bottom. The waterbuck swam a little longer, the fine head dropped,
the body turned over, and one of the canoes dragged it ashore. Below
Kakolole, and still at the base of Manyerere mountain, several coal-
seams, not noticed on our ascent, were now seen to crop out on the
right bank of the Zambesi.
Chitora, of Chicova, treated us with his former hospitality. Our men
were all much pleased with his kindness, and certainly did not look
upon it as a proof of weakness. They meant to return his
friendliness when they came this way on a marauding expedition to eat
the sheep of the Banyai, for insulting them in the affair of the
hippopotamus; they would then send word to Chitora not to run away,
for they, being his friends, would do such a good-hearted man no
harm.
We entered Kebrabasa rapids, at the east end of Chicova, in the
canoes, and went down a number of miles, until the river narrowed
into a groove of fifty or sixty yards wide, of which we have already
spoken in describing the flood-bed and channel of low water. The
navigation then became difficult and dangerous. A fifteen feet fall
of the water in our absence had developed many cataracts. Two of our
canoes passed safely down a narrow channel, which, bifurcating, had
an ugly whirlpool at the rocky partition between the two branches,
the deep hole in the whirls at times opening and then shutting. The
Doctor's canoe came next, and seemed to be drifting broadside into
the open vortex, in spite of the utmost exertions of the paddlers.
The rest were expecting to have to pull to the rescue; the men
saying, "Look where these people are going!--look, look!"--when a
loud crash burst on our ears. Dr. Kirk's canoe was dashed on a
projection of the perpendicular rocks, by a sudden and mysterious
boiling up of the river, which occurs at irregular intervals. Dr.
Kirk was seen resisting the sucking-down action of the water, which
must have been fifteen fathoms deep, and raising himself by his arms
on to the ledge, while his steersman, holding on to the same rocks,
saved the canoe; but nearly all its contents were swept away down the
stream. Dr. Livingstone's canoe, meanwhile, which had distracted the
men's attention, was saved by the cavity in the whirlpool filling up
as the frightful eddy was reached. A few of the things in Dr. Kirk's
canoe were left; but all that was valuable, including a chronometer,
a barometer, and, to our great sorrow, his notes of the journey and
botanical drawings of the fruit-trees of the interior, perished.
We now left the river, and proceeded on foot, sorry that we had not
done so the day before. The men were thoroughly frightened, they had
never seen such perilous navigation. They would carry all the loads,
rather than risk Kebrabasa any longer; but the fatigue of a day's
march over the hot rocks and burning sand changed their tune before
night; and then they regretted having left the canoes; they thought
they should have dragged them past the dangerous places, and then
launched them again. One of the two donkeys died from exhaustion
near the Luia. Though the men eat zebras and quaggas, blood
relations of the donkey, they were shocked at the idea of eating the
ass; "it would be like eating man himself, because the donkey lives
with man, and is his bosom companion." We met two large trading
parties of Tette slaves on their way to Zumbo, leading, to be sold
for ivory, a number of Manganja women, with ropes round their necks,
and all made fast to one long rope.
Panzo, the headman of the village east of Kebrabasa, received us with
great kindness. After the usual salutation he went up the hill, and,
in a loud voice, called across the valley to the women of several
hamlets to cook supper for us. About eight in the evening he
returned, followed by a procession of women, bringing the food.
There were eight dishes of nsima, or porridge, six of different sorts
of very good wild vegetables, with dishes of beans and fowls; all
deliciously well cooked, and scrupulously clean. The wooden dishes
were nearly as white as the meal itself: food also was brought for
our men. Ripe mangoes, which usually indicate the vicinity of the
Portuguese, were found on the 21st November; and we reached Tette
early on the 23rd, having been absent a little over six months.
The two English sailors, left in charge of the steamer, were well,
had behaved well, and had enjoyed excellent health all the time we
were away. Their farm had been a failure. We left a few sheep, to
be slaughtered when they wished for fresh meat, and two dozen fowls.
Purchasing more, they soon had double the number of the latter, and
anticipated a good supply of eggs; but they also bought two monkeys,
and THEY ate all the eggs. A hippopotamus came up one night, and
laid waste their vegetable garden; the sheep broke into their cotton
patch, when it was in flower, and ate it all, except the stems; then
the crocodiles carried off the sheep, and the natives stole the
fowls. Nor were they more successful as gun-smiths: a Portuguese
trader, having an exalted opinion of the ingenuity of English
sailors, showed them a double-barrelled rifle, and inquired if they
could put on the BROWNING, which had rusted off. "I think I knows
how," said one, whose father was a blacksmith, "it's very easy; you
have only to put the barrels in the fire." A great fire of wood was
made on shore, and the unlucky barrels put over it, to secure the
handsome rifle colour. To Jack's utter amazement the barrels came
asunder. To get out of the scrape, his companion and he stuck the
pieces together with resin, and sent it to the owner, with the
message, "It was all they could do for it, and they would not charge
him anything for the job!" They had also invented an original mode
of settling a bargain; having ascertained the market price of
provisions, they paid that, but no more. If the traders refused to
leave the ship till the price was increased, a chameleon, of which
the natives have a mortal dread, was brought out of the cabin; and
the moment the natives saw the creature, they at once sprang
overboard. The chameleon settled every dispute in a twinkling.
But besides their good-humoured intercourse, they showed humanity
worthy of English sailors. A terrible scream roused them up one
night, and they pushed off in a boat to the rescue. A crocodile had
caught a woman, and was dragging her across a shallow sandbank. Just
as they came up to her, she gave a fearful shriek: the horrid
reptile had snapped off her leg at the knee. They took her on board,
bandaged the limb as well as they could, and, not thinking of any
better way of showing their sympathy, gave her a glass of rum, and
carried her to a hut in the village. Next morning they found the
bandages torn off, and the unfortunate creature left to die. "I
believe," remarked Rowe, one of the sailors, "her master was angry
with us for saving her life, seeing as how she had lost her leg."
The Zambesi being unusually low, we remained at Tette till it rose a
little, and then left on the 3rd of December for the Kongone. It was
hard work to keep the vessel afloat; indeed, we never expected her to
remain above water. New leaks broke out every day; the engine pump
gave way; the bridge broke down; three compartments filled at night;
except the cabin and front compartment all was flooded; and in a few
days we were assured by Rowe that "she can't be worse than she is,
sir." He and Hutchins had spent much of their time, while we were
away, in patching her bottom, puddling it with clay, and shoring it,
and it was chiefly to please them that we again attempted to make use
of her. We had long been fully convinced that the steel plates were
thoroughly unsuitable. On the morning of the 21st the uncomfortable
"Asthmatic" grounded on a sandbank and filled. She could neither be
emptied nor got off. The river rose during the night, and all that
was visible of the worn-out craft next day was about six feet of her
two masts. Most of the property we had on board was saved; and we
spent the Christmas of 1860 encamped on the island of Chimba. Canoes
were sent for from Senna; and we reached it on the 27th, to be again
hospitably entertained by our friend, Senhor Ferrao.
We reached the Kongone on the 4th of January, 1861. A flagstaff and
a Custom-house had been erected during our absence; a hut, also, for
a black lance-corporal and three privates. By the kind permission of
the lance-corporal, who came to see us as soon as he had got into his
trousers and shirt, we took up our quarters in the Custom-house,
which, like the other buildings, is a small square floorless hut of
mangrove stakes overlaid with reeds. The soldiers complained of
hunger, they had nothing to eat but a little mapira, and were making
palm wine to deaden their cravings. While waiting for a ship, we had
leisure to read the newspapers and periodicals we found in the mail
which was waiting our arrival at Tette. Several were a year and a
half old.
Our provisions began to run short; and towards the end of the month
there was nothing left but a little bad biscuit and a few ounces of
sugar. Coffee and tea were expended, but scarcely missed, as our
sailors discovered a pretty good substitute in roasted mapira. Fresh
meat was obtained in abundance from our antelope preserves on the
large island made by a creek between the Kongone and East Luabo.
In this focus of decaying vegetation, nothing is so much to be
dreaded as inactivity. We had, therefore, to find what exercise and
amusement we could, when hunting was not required, in peering about
in the fetid swamps; to have gone mooning about, in listless
idleness, would have ensured fever in its worst form, and probably
with fatal results.
A curious little blenny-fish swarms in the numerous creeks which
intersect the mangrove topes. When alarmed, it hurries across the
surface of the water in a series of leaps. It may be considered
amphibious, as it lives as much out of the water as in it, and its
most busy time is during low water. Then it appears on the sand or
mud, near the little pools left by the retiring tide; it raises
itself on its pectoral fins into something of a standing attitude,
and with its large projecting eyes keeps a sharp look-out for the
light-coloured fly, on which it feeds. Should the fly alight at too
great a distance for even a second leap, the blenny moves slowly
towards it like a cat to its prey, or like a jumping spider; and, as
soon as it gets within two or three inches of the insect, by a sudden
spring contrives to pop its underset mouth directly over the unlucky
victim. He is, moreover, a pugnacious little fellow; and rather
prolonged fights may be observed between him and his brethren. One,
in fleeing from an apparent danger, jumped into a pool a foot square,
which the other evidently regarded as his by right of prior
discovery; in a twinkling the owner, with eyes flashing fury, and
with dorsal fin bristling up in rage, dashed at the intruding foe.
The fight waxed furious, no tempest in a teapot ever equalled the
storm of that miniature sea. The warriors were now in the water, and
anon out of it, for the battle raged on sea and shore. They struck
hard, they bit each other; until, becoming exhausted, they seized
each other by the jaws like two bull-dogs, then paused for breath,
and at it again as fiercely as before, until the combat ended by the
precipitate retreat of the invader.
The muddy ground under the mangrove-trees is covered with soldier-
crabs, which quickly slink into their holes on any symptom of danger.
When the ebbing tide retires, myriads of minute crabs emerge from
their underground quarters, and begin to work like so many busy bees.
Soon many miles of the smooth sand become rough with the results of
their labour. They are toiling for their daily bread: a round bit
of moist sand appears at the little labourer's mouth, and is quickly
brushed off by one of the claws; a second bit follows the first; and
another, and still another come as fast as they can be laid aside.
As these pellets accumulate, the crab moves sideways, and the work
continues. The first impression one receives is, that the little
creature has swallowed a great deal of sand, and is getting rid of it
as speedily as possible: a habit he indulges in of darting into his
hole at intervals, as if for fresh supplies, tends to strengthen this
idea; but the size of the heaps formed in a few seconds shows that
this cannot be the case, and leads to the impression that, although
not readily seen, at the distance at which he chooses to keep the
observer, yet that possibly he raises the sand to his mouth, where
whatever animalcule it may contain is sifted out of it, and the
remainder rejected in the manner described. At times the larger
species of crabs perform a sort of concert; and from each
subterranean abode strange sounds arise, as if, in imitation of the
songsters of the groves, for very joy they sang!
We found some natives pounding the woody stems of a poisonous
climbing-plant (Dirca palustris) called Busungu, or poison, which
grows abundantly in the swamps. When a good quantity was bruised, it
was tied up in bundles. The stream above and below was obstructed
with bushes, and with a sort of rinsing motion the poison was
diffused through the water. Many fish were soon affected, swain in
shore, and died, others were only stupefied. The plant has pink,
pea-shaped blossoms, and smooth, pointed, glossy leaves, and the
brown bark is covered with minute white points. The knowledge of it
might prove of use to a shipwrecked party by enabling them to catch
the fish.
The poison is said to be deleterious to man if the water is drunk;
but not when the fish is cooked. The Busungu is repulsive to some
insects, and is smeared round the shoots of the palm-trees to prevent
the ants from getting into the palm wine while it is dropping from
the tops of the palm-trees into the little pots suspended to collect
it.
We were in the habit of walking from our beds into the salt water at
sunrise, for a bath, till a large crocodile appeared at the bathing-
place, and from that time forth we took our dip in the sea, away from
the harbour, about midday. This is said to be unwholesome, but we
did not find it so. It is certainly better not to bathe in the
mornings, when the air is colder than the water--for then, on
returning to the cooler air, one is apt to get a chill and fever. In
the mouth of the river, many saw-fish are found. Rowe saw one while
bathing--caught it by the tail, and shoved it, "snout on," ashore.
The saw is from a foot to eighteen inches long. We never heard of
any one being wounded by this fish; nor, though it goes hundreds of
miles up the river in fresh water, could we learn that it was eaten
by the people. The hippopotami delighted to spend the day among the
breakers, and seemed to enjoy the fun as much as we did.
Severe gales occurred during our stay on the Coast, and many small
sea-birds (Prion Banksii, Smith) perished: the beach was strewn with
their dead bodies, and some were found hundreds of yards inland; many
were so emaciated as to dry up without putrefying. We were plagued
with myriads of mosquitoes, and had some touches of fever; the men we
brought from malarious regions of the interior suffered almost as
much from it here as we did ourselves. This gives strength to the
idea that the civilized withstand the evil influences of strange
climates better than the uncivilized. When negroes return to their
own country from healthy lands, they suffer as severely as foreigners
ever do.
On the 31st of January, 1861, our new ship, the "Pioneer," arrived
from England, and anchored outside the bar; but the weather was
stormy, and she did not venture in till the 4th of February.
Two of H.M. cruisers came at the same time, bringing Bishop
Mackenzie, and the Oxford and Cambridge Mission to the tribes of the
Shire and Lake Nyassa. The Mission consisted of six Englishmen, and
five coloured men from the Cape. It was a puzzle to know what to do
with so many men. The estimable Bishop, anxious to commence his work
without delay, wished the "Pioneer" to carry the Mission up the
Shire, as far as Chibisa's, and there leave them. But there were
grave objections to this. The "Pioneer" was under orders to explore
the Rovuma, as the Portuguese Government had refused to open the
Zambesi to the ships of other nations, and their officials were very
effectually pursuing a system, which, by abstracting the labour, was
rendering the country of no value either to foreigners or to
themselves. She was already two months behind her time, and the
rainy season was half over. Then, if the party were taken to
Chibisa's, the Mission would he left without a medical attendant, in
an unhealthy region, at the beginning of the most sickly season of
the year, and without means of reaching the healthy highlands, or of
returning to the sea. We dreaded that, in the absence of medical aid
and all knowledge of the treatment of fever, there might be a
repetition of the sorrowful fate which befell the similar non-medical
Mission at Linyanti.
On the 25th of February the "Pioneer" anchored in the mouth of the
Rovuma, which, unlike most African rivers, has a magnificent bay and
no bar. We wooded, and then waited for the Bishop till the 9th of
March, when he came in the "Lyra." On the 11th we proceeded up the
river, and saw that it had fallen four or five feet during our
detention. The scenery on the lower part of the Rovuma is superior
to that on the Zambesi, for we can see the highlands from the sea.
Eight miles from the mouth the mangroves are left behind, and a
beautiful range of well-wooded hills on each bank begins. On these
ridges the tree resembling African blackwood, of finer grain than
ebony, grows abundantly, and attains a large size. Few people were
seen, and those were of Arab breed, and did not appear to be very
well off. The current of the Rovuma was now as strong as that of the
Zambesi, but the volume of water is very much less. Several of the
crossings had barely water enough for our ship, drawing five feet, to
pass. When we were thirty miles up the river, the water fell
suddenly seven inches in twenty-four hours. As the March flood is
the last of the season, and it appeared to be expended, it was
thought prudent to avoid the chance of a year's detention, by getting
the ship back to the sea without delay. Had the Expedition been
alone, we would have pushed up in boats, or afoot, and done what we
could towards the exploration of the river and upper end of the lake;
but, though the Mission was a private one, and entirely distinct from
our own, a public one, the objects of both being similar, we felt
anxious to aid our countrymen in their noble enterprise; and, rather
than follow our own inclination, decided to return to the Shire, see
the Mission party settled safely, and afterwards explore Lake Nyassa
and the Rovuma, from the Lake downwards. Fever broke out on board
the "Pioneer," at the mouth of the Rovuma, as we thought from our
having anchored close to a creek coming out of the mangroves; and it
remained in her until we completely isolated the engine-room from the
rest of the ship. The coal-dust rotting sent out strong effluvia,
and kept up the disease for more than a twelvemonth.
Soon after we started the fever put the "Pioneer" almost entirely
into the hands of the original Zambesi Expedition, and not long
afterwards the leader had to navigate the ocean as well as the river.
The habit of finding the geographical positions on land renders it an
easy task to steer a steamer with only three or four sails at sea;
where, if one does not run ashore, no one follows to find out an
error, and where a current affords a ready excuse for every blunder.
Touching at Mohilla, one of the Comoro Islands, on our return, we
found a mixed race of Arabs, Africans, and their conquerors, the
natives of Madagascar. Being Mahometans, they have mosques and
schools, in which we were pleased to see girls as well as boys taught
to read the Koran. The teacher said he was paid by the job, and
received ten dollars for teaching each child to read. The clever
ones learn in six months; but the dull ones take a couple of years.
We next went over to Johanna for our friends; and, after a sojourn of
a few days at the beautiful Comoro Islands, we sailed for the Kongone
mouth of the Zambesi with Bishop Mackenzie and his party. We reached
the coast in seven days, and passed up the Zambesi to the Shire.
The "Pioneer," constructed under the skilful supervision of Admiral
Sir Baldwin Walker and the late Admiral Washington, warm-hearted and
highly esteemed friends of the Expedition, was a very superior
vessel, and well suited for our work in every respect, except in her
draught of water. Five feet were found to be too much for the
navigation of the upper part of the Shire. Designed to draw three
feet only, the weight necessary to impart extra strength, and fit her
for the ocean, brought her down two feet more, and caused us a great
deal of hard and vexatious work, in laying out anchors, and toiling
at the capstan to get her off sandbanks. We should not have minded
this much, but for the heavy loss of time which might have been more
profitably, and infinitely more pleasantly, spent in intercourse with
the people, exploring new regions, and otherwise carrying out the
objects of the Expedition. Once we were a fortnight on a bank of
soft yielding sand, having only two or three inches less water than
the ship drew; this delay was occasioned by the anchors coming home,
and the current swinging the ship broadside on the bank, which,
immediately on our touching, always formed behind us. We did not
like to leave the ship short of Chibisa's, lest the crew should
suffer from the malaria of the lowland around; and it would have been
difficult to have got the Mission goods carried up. We were daily
visited by crowds of natives, who brought us abundance of provisions
far beyond our ability to consume. In hauling the "Pioneer" over the
shallow places, the Bishop, with Horace Waller and Mr. Scudamore,
were ever ready and anxious to lend a hand, and worked as hard as any
on board. Had our fine little ship drawn but three feet, she could
have run up and down the river at any time of the year with the
greatest ease, but as it was, having once passed up over a few
shallow banks, it was impossible to take her down again until the
river rose in December. She could go up over a bank, but not come
down over it, as a heap of sand always formed instantly astern, while
the current washed it away from under her bows.
On at last reaching Chibisa's, we heard that there was war in the
Manganja country, and the slave-trade was going on briskly. A
deputation from a chief near Mount Zomba had just passed on its way
to Chibisa, who was in a distant village, to implore him to come
himself, or send medicine, to drive off the Waiao, Waiau, or Ajawa,
whose marauding parties were desolating the land. A large gang of
recently enslaved Manganja crossed the river, on their way to Tette,
a few days before we got the ship up. Chibisa's deputy was civil,
and readily gave us permission to hire as many men to carry the
Bishop's goods up to the hills as were willing to go. With a
sufficient number, therefore, we started for the highlands on the
15th of July, to show the Bishop the country, which, from its
altitude and coolness, was most suitable for a station. Our first
day's march was a long and fatiguing one. The few hamlets we passed
were poor, and had no food for our men, and we were obliged to go on
till 4 p.m., when we entered the small village of Chipindu. The
inhabitants complained of hunger, and said they had no food to sell,
and no hut for us to sleep in; but, if we would only go on a little
further, we should come to a village where they had plenty to eat;
but we had travelled far enough, and determined to remain where we
were. Before sunset as much food was brought as we cared to
purchase, and, as it threatened to rain, huts were provided for the
whole party.
Next forenoon we halted at the village of our old friend Mbame, to
obtain new carriers, because Chibisa's men, never before having been
hired, and not having yet learned to trust us, did not choose to go
further. After resting a little, Mbame told us that a slave party on
its way to Tette would presently pass through his village. "Shall we
interfere?" we inquired of each other. We remembered that all our
valuable private baggage was in Tette, which, if we freed the slaves,
might, together with some Government property, be destroyed in
retaliation; but this system of slave-hunters dogging us where
previously they durst not venture, and, on pretence of being "our
children," setting one tribe against another, to furnish themselves
with slaves, would so inevitably thwart all the efforts, for which we
had the sanction of the Portuguese Government, that we resolved to
run all risks, and put a stop, if possible, to the slave-trade, which
had now followed on the footsteps of our discoveries. A few minutes
after Mbame had spoken to us, the slave party, a long line of
manacled men, women, and children, came wending their way round the
hill and into the valley, on the side of which the village stood.
The black drivers, armed with muskets, and bedecked with various
articles of finery, marched jauntily in the front, middle, and rear
of the line; some of them blowing exultant notes out of long tin
horns. They seemed to feel that they were doing a very noble thing,
and might proudly march with an air of triumph. But the instant the
fellows caught a glimpse of the English, they darted off like mad
into the forest; so fast, indeed, that we caught but a glimpse of
their red caps and the soles of their feet. The chief of the party
alone remained; and he, from being in front, had his hand tightly
grasped by a Makololo! He proved to be a well-known slave of the
late Commandant at Tette, and for some time our own attendant while
there. On asking him how he obtained these captives, he replied he
had bought them; but on our inquiring of the people themselves, all,
save four, said they had been captured in war. While this inquiry
was going on, he bolted too. The captives knelt down, and, in their
way of expressing thanks, clapped their hands with great energy.
They were thus left entirely on our hands, and knives were soon busy
at work cutting the women and children loose. It was more difficult
to cut the men adrift, as each had his neck in the fork of a stout
stick, six or seven feet long, and was kept in by an iron rod which
was riveted at both ends across the throat. With a saw, luckily in
the Bishop's baggage, one by one the men were sawn out into freedom.
The women, on being told to take the meal they were carrying and cook
breakfast for themselves and the children, seemed to consider the
news too good to be true; but after a little coaxing went at it with
alacrity, and made a capital fire by which to boil their pots with
the slave sticks and bonds, their old acquaintances through many a
sad night and weary day. Many were mere children about five years of
age and under. One little boy, with the simplicity of childhood,
said to our men, "The others tied and starved us, you cut the ropes
and tell us to eat; what sort of people are you?--Where did you come
from?" Two of the women had been shot the day before for attempting
to untie the thongs. This, the rest were told, was to prevent them
from attempting to escape. One woman had her infant's brains knocked
out, because she could not carry her load and it. And a man was
dispatched with an axe, because he had broken down with fatigue.
Self-interest would have set a watch over the whole rather than
commit murder; but in this traffic we invariably find self-interest
overcome by contempt of human life and by bloodthirstiness.
The Bishop was not present at this scene, having gone to bathe in a
little stream below the village; but on his return he warmly approved
of what had been done; he at first had doubts, but now felt that, had
he been present, he would have joined us in the good work. Logic is
out of place when the question with a true-hearted man is, whether
his brother man is to be saved or not. Eighty-four, chiefly women
and children, were liberated; and on being told that they were now
free, and might go where they pleased, or remain with us, they all
chose to stay; and the Bishop wisely attached them to his Mission, to
be educated as members of a Christian family. In this way a great
difficulty in the commencement of a Mission was overcome. Years are
usually required before confidence is so far instilled into the
natives' mind as to induce them, young or old, to submit to the
guidance of strangers professing to be actuated by motives the
reverse of worldly wisdom, and inculcating customs strange and
unknown to them and their fathers.
We proceeded next morning to Soche's with our liberated party, the
men cheerfully carrying the Bishop's goods. As we had begun, it was
of no use to do things by halves, so eight others were freed in a
hamlet on our path; but a party of traders, with nearly a hundred
slaves, fled from Soche's on hearing of our proceedings. Dr. Kirk
and four Makololo followed them with great energy, but they made
clear off to Tette. Six more captives were liberated at Mongazi's,
and two slave-traders detained for the night, to prevent them from
carrying information to a large party still in front. Of their own
accord they volunteered the information that the Governor's servants
had charge of the next party; but we did not choose to be led by
them, though they offered to guide us to his Excellency's own agents.
Two of the Bishop's black men from the Cape, having once been slaves,
were now zealous emancipators, and volunteered to guard the prisoners
during the night. So anxious were our heroes to keep them safe, that
instead of relieving each other, by keeping watch and watch, both
kept watch together, till towards four o'clock in the morning, when
sleep stole gently over them both; and the wakeful prisoners, seizing
the opportunity, escaped: one of the guards, perceiving the loss,
rushed out of the hut, shouting, "They are gone, the prisoners are
off, and they have taken my rifle with them, and the women too!
Fire! everybody fire!" The rifle and the women, however, were all
safe enough, the slave-traders being only too glad to escape alone.
Fifty more slaves were freed next day in another village; and, the
whole party being stark-naked, cloth enough was left to clothe them,
better probably than they had ever been clothed before. The head of
this gang, whom we knew as the agent of one of the principal
merchants of Tette, said that they had the license of the Governor
for all they did. This we were fully aware of without his stating
it. It is quite impossible for any enterprise to be undertaken there
without the Governor's knowledge and connivance.
The portion of the highlands which the Bishop wished to look at
before deciding on a settlement belonged to Chiwawa, or Chibaba, the
most manly and generous Manganja chief we had met with on our
previous journey. On reaching Nsambo's, near Mount Chiradzuru, we
heard that Chibaba was dead, and that Chigunda was chief instead.
Chigunda, apparently of his own accord, though possibly he may have
learnt that the Bishop intended to settle somewhere in the country,
asked him to come and live with him at Magomero, adding that there
was room enough for both. This hearty and spontaneous invitation had
considerable influence on the Bishop's mind, and seemed to decide the
question. A place nearer the Shire would have been chosen had he
expected his supplies to come up that river; but the Portuguese,
claiming the river Shire, though never occupying even its mouth, had
closed it, as well as the Zambesi.
Our hopes were turned to the Rovuma, as a free highway into Lake
Nyassa and the vast interior. A steamer was already ordered for the
Lake, and the Bishop, seeing the advantageous nature of the highlands
which stretch an immense way to the north, was more anxious to be
near the Lake and the Rovuma, than the Shire. When he decided to
settle at Magomero, it was thought desirable, to prevent the country
from being depopulated, to visit the Ajawa chief, and to try and
persuade him to give up his slaving and kidnapping courses, and turn
the energies of his people to peaceful pursuits.
On the morning of the 22nd we were informed that the Ajawa were near,
and were burning a village a few miles off. Leaving the rescued
slaves, we moved off to seek an interview with these scourges of the
country. On our way we met crowds of Manganja fleeing from the war
in front. These poor fugitives from the slave hunt had, as usual, to
leave all the food they possessed, except the little they could carry
on their heads. We passed field after field of Indian corn or beans,
standing ripe for harvesting, but the owners were away. The villages
were all deserted: one where we breakfasted two years before, and
saw a number of men peacefully weaving cloth, and, among ourselves,
called it the "Paisley of the hills," was burnt; the stores of corn
were poured out in cartloads, and scattered all over the plain, and
all along the paths, neither conquerors nor conquered having been
able to convey it away. About two o'clock we saw the smoke of
burning villages, and heard triumphant shouts, mingled with the wail
of the Manganja women, lamenting over their slain. The Bishop then
engaged us in fervent prayer; and, on rising from our knees, we saw a
long line of Ajawa warriors, with their captives, coming round the
hill-side. The first of the returning conquerors were entering their
own village below, and we heard women welcoming them back with
"lillilooings." The Ajawa headman left the path on seeing us, and
stood on an anthill to obtain a complete view of our party. We
called out that we had come to have an interview with them, but some
of the Manganja who followed us shouted "Our Chibisa is come:"
Chibisa being well known as a great conjurer and general. The Ajawa
ran off yelling and screaming, "Nkondo! Nkondo!" (War! War!) We
heard the words of the Manganja, but they did not strike us at the
moment as neutralizing all our assertions of peace. The captives
threw down their loads on the path, and fled to the hills: and a
large body of armed men came running up from the village, and in a
few seconds they were all around us, though mostly concealed by the
projecting rocks and long grass. In vain we protested that we had
not come to fight, but to talk with them. They would not listen,
having, as we remembered afterwards, good reason, in the cry of "Our
Chibisa." Flushed with recent victory over three villages, and
confident of an easy triumph over a mere handful of men, they began
to shoot their poisoned arrows, sending them with great force upwards
of a hundred yards, and wounding one of our followers through the
arm. Our retiring slowly up the ascent from the village only made
them more eager to prevent our escape; and, in the belief that this
retreat was evidence of fear, they closed upon us in bloodthirsty
fury. Some came within fifty yards, dancing hideously; others having
quite surrounded us, and availing themselves of the rocks and long
grass hard by, were intent on cutting us off, while others made off
with their women and a large body of slaves. Four were armed with
muskets, and we were obliged in self-defence to return their fire and
drive them off. When they saw the range of rifles, they very soon
desisted, and ran away; but some shouted to us from the hills the
consoling intimation, that they would follow, and kill us where we
slept. Only two of the captives escaped to us, but probably most of
those made prisoners that day fled elsewhere in the confusion. We
returned to the village which we had left in the morning, after a
hungry, fatiguing, and most unpleasant day.
Though we could not blame ourselves for the course we had followed,
we felt sorry for what had happened. It was the first time we had
ever been attacked by the natives or come into collision with them;
though we had always taken it for granted that we might be called
upon to act in self-defence, we were on this occasion less prepared
than usual, no game having been expected here. The men had only a
single round of cartridge each; their leader had no revolver, and the
rifle he usually fired with was left at the ship to save it from the
damp of the season. Had we known better the effect of slavery and
murder on the temper of these bloodthirsty marauders, we should have
tried messages and presents before going near them.
The old chief, Chinsunse, came on a visit to us next day, and pressed
the Bishop to come and live with him. "Chigunda," he said, "is but a
child, and the Bishop ought to live with the father rather than with
the child." But the old man's object was so evidently to have the
Mission as a shield against the Ajawa, that his invitation was
declined. While begging us to drive away the marauders, that he
might live in peace, he adopted the stratagem of causing a number of
his men to rush into the village, in breathless haste, with the news
that the Ajawa were close upon us. And having been reminded that we
never fought, unless attacked, as we were the day before, and that we
had come among them for the purpose of promoting peace, and of
teaching them to worship the Supreme, to give up selling His
children, and to cultivate other objects for barter than each other,
he replied, in a huff, "Then I am dead already."
The Bishop, feeling, as most Englishmen would, at the prospect of the
people now in his charge being swept off into slavery by hordes of
men-stealers, proposed to go at once to the rescue of the captive
Manganja, and drive the marauding Ajawa out of the country. All were
warmly in favour of this, save Dr. Livingstone, who opposed it on the
ground that it would be better for the Bishop to wait, and see the
effect of the check the slave-hunters had just experienced. The
Ajawa were evidently goaded on by Portuguese agents from Tette, and
there was no bond of union among the Manganja on which to work. It
was possible that the Ajawa might be persuaded to something better,
though, from having long been in the habit of slaving for the
Quillimane market, it was not very probable. But the Manganja could
easily be overcome piecemeal by any enemy; old feuds made them glad
to see calamities befall their next neighbours. We counselled them
to unite against the common enemies of their country, and added
distinctly that we English would on no account enter into their
quarrels. On the Bishop inquiring whether, in the event of the
Manganja again asking aid against the Ajawa, it would be his duty to
accede to their request,--"No," replied Dr. Livingstone, "you will be
oppressed by their importunities, but do not interfere in native
quarrels." This advice the good man honourably mentions in his
journal. We have been rather minute in relating what occurred during
the few days of our connection with the Mission of the English
Universities, on the hills, because, the recorded advice having been
discarded, blame was thrown on Dr. Livingstone's shoulders, as if the
missionaries had no individual responsibility for their subsequent
conduct. This, unquestionably, good Bishop Mackenzie had too much
manliness to have allowed. The connection of the members of the
Zambesi Expedition, with the acts of the Bishop's Mission, now
ceased, for we returned to the ship and prepared for our journey to
Lake Nyassa. We cheerfully, if necessary, will bear all
responsibility up to this point; and if the Bishop afterwards made
mistakes in certain collisions with the slavers, he had the votes of
all his party with him, and those who best knew the peculiar
circumstances, and the loving disposition of this good-hearted man,
will blame him least. In this position, and in these circumstances,
we left our friends at the Mission Station.
As a temporary measure the Bishop decided to place his Mission
Station on a small promontory formed by the windings of the little,
clear stream of Magomero, which was so cold that the limbs were quite
benumbed by washing in it in the July mornings. The site chosen was
a pleasant spot to the eye, and completely surrounded by stately,
shady trees. It was expected to serve for a residence, till the
Bishop had acquired an accurate knowledge of the adjacent country,
and of the political relations of the people, and could select a
healthy and commanding situation, as a permanent centre of Christian
civilization. Everything promised fairly. The weather was
delightful, resembling the pleasantest part of an English summer;
provisions poured in very cheap and in great abundance. The Bishop,
with characteristic ardour, commenced learning the language, Mr.
Waller began building, and Mr. Scudamore improvised a sort of infant
school for the children, than which there is no better means for
acquiring an unwritten tongue.
On the 6th of August, 1861, a few days after returning from Magomero,
Drs. Livingstone and Kirk, and Charles Livingstone started for Nyassa
with a light four-oared gig, a white sailor, and a score of
attendants. We hired people along the path to carry the boat past
the forty miles of the Murchison Cataracts for a cubit of cotton
cloth a day. This being deemed great wages, more than twice the men
required eagerly offered their services. The chief difficulty was in
limiting their numbers. Crowds followed us; and, had we not taken
down in the morning the names of the porters engaged, in the evening
claims would have been made by those who only helped during the last
ten minutes of the journey. The men of one village carried the boat
to the next, and all we had to do was to tell the headman that we
wanted fresh men in the morning. He saw us pay the first party, and
had his men ready at the time appointed, so there was no delay in
waiting for carriers. They often make a loud noise when carrying
heavy loads, but talking and bawling does not put them out of breath.
The country was rough and with little soil on it, but covered with
grass and open forest. A few small trees were cut down to clear a
path for our shouting assistants, who were good enough to consider
the boat as a certificate of peaceful intentions at least to them.
Several small streams were passed, the largest of which were the
Mukuru-Madse and Lesungwe. The inhabitants on both banks were now
civil and obliging. Our possession of a boat, and consequent power
of crossing independently of the canoes, helped to develop their good
manners, which were not apparent on our previous visit.
There is often a surprising contrast between neighbouring villages.
One is well off and thriving, having good huts, plenty of food, and
native cloth; and its people are frank, trusty, generous, and eager
to sell provisions; while in the next the inhabitants may be ill-
housed, disobliging, suspicious, ill-fed, and scantily clad, and with
nothing for sale, though the land around is as fertile as that of
their wealthier neighbours. We followed the river for the most part
to avail ourselves of the still reaches for sailing; but a
comparatively smooth country lies further inland, over which a good
road could be made. Some of the five main cataracts are very grand,
the river falling 1200 feet in the 40 miles. After passing the last
of the cataracts, we launched our boat for good on the broad and deep
waters of the Upper Shire, and were virtually on the lake, for the
gentle current shows but little difference of level. The bed is
broad and deep, but the course is rather tortuous at first, and makes
a long bend to the east till it comes within five or six miles of the
base of Mount Zomba. The natives regarded the Upper Shire as a
prolongation of Lake Nyassa; for where what we called the river
approaches Lake Shirwa, a little north of the mountains, they said
that the hippopotami, "which are great night travellers," pass from
ONE LAKE INTO THE OTHER. There the land is flat, and only a short
land journey would be necessary. Seldom does the current here exceed
a knot an hour, while that of the Lower Shire is from two to two-and-
a-half knots. Our land party of Makololo accompanied us along the
right bank, and passed thousands of Manganja fugitives living in
temporary huts on that side, who had recently been driven from their
villages on the opposite hills by the Ajawa.
The soil was dry and hard, and covered with mopane-trees; but some of
the Manganja were busy hoeing the ground and planting the little corn
they had brought with them. The effects of hunger were already
visible on those whose food had been seized or burned by the Ajawa
and Portuguese slave-traders. The spokesman or prime minister of one
of the chiefs, named Kalonjere, was a humpbacked dwarf, a fluent
speaker, who tried hard to make us go over and drive off the Ajawa;
but he could not deny that by selling people Kalonjere had invited
these slave-hunters to the country. This is the second humpbacked
dwarf we have found occupying the like important post, the other was
the prime minister of a Batonga chief on the Zambesi.
As we sailed along, we disturbed many white-breasted cormorants; we
had seen the same species fishing between the cataracts. Here, with
many other wild-fowls, they find subsistence on the smooth water by
night, and sit sleepily on trees and in the reeds by day. Many
hippopotami were seen in the river, and one of them stretched its
wide jaws, as if to swallow the whole stern of the boat, close to Dr.
Kirk's back; the animal was so near that, in opening its mouth, it
lashed a quantity of water on to the stern-sheets, but did no damage.
To avoid large marauding parties of Ajawa, on the left bank of the
Shire, we continued on the right, or western side, with our land
party, along the shore of the small lake Pamalombe. This lakelet is
ten or twelve miles in length, and five or six broad. It is nearly
surrounded by a broad belt of papyrus, so dense that we could
scarcely find an opening to the shore. The plants, ten or twelve
feet high, grew so closely together that air was excluded, and so
much sulphuretted hydrogen gas evolved that by one night's exposure
the bottom of the boat was blackened. Myriads of mosquitoes showed,
as probably they always do, the presence of malaria.
We hastened from this sickly spot, trying to take the attentions of
the mosquitoes as hints to seek more pleasant quarters on the healthy
shores of Lake Nyassa; and when we sailed into it, on the 2nd
September, we felt refreshed by the greater coolness of the air off
this large body of water. The depth was the first point of interest.
This is indicated by the colour of the water, which, on a belt along
the shore, varying from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, is light
green, and this is met by the deep blue or indigo tint of the Indian
Ocean, which is the colour of the great body of Nyassa. We found the
Upper Shire from nine to fifteen feet in depth; but skirting the
western side of the lake about a mile from the shore the water
deepened from nine to fifteen fathoms; then, as we rounded the grand
mountainous promontory, which we named Cape Maclear, after our
excellent friend the Astronomer Royal at the Cape of Good Hope, we
could get no bottom with our lead-line of thirty-five fathoms. We
pulled along the western shore, which was a succession of bays, and
found that where the bottom was sandy near the beach, and to a mile
out, the depth varied from six to fourteen fathoms. In a rocky bay
about latitude 11 degrees 40 minutes we had soundings at 100 fathoms,
though outside the same bay we found none with a fishing-line of 116
fathoms; but this cast was unsatisfactory, as the line broke in
coming up. According to our present knowledge, a ship could anchor
only near the shore.
Looking back to the southern end of Lake Nyassa, the arm from which
the Shire flows was found to be about thirty miles long and from ten
to twelve broad. Rounding Cape Maclear, and looking to the south-
west, we have another arm, which stretches some eighteen miles
southward, and is from six to twelve miles in breadth. These arms
give the southern end a forked appearance, and with the help of a
little imagination it may be likened to the "boot-shape" of Italy.
The narrowest part is about the ankle, eighteen or twenty miles.
From this it widens to the north, and in the upper third or fourth it
is fifty or sixty miles broad. The length is over 200 miles. The
direction in which it lies is as near as possible due north and
south. Nothing of the great bend to the west, shown in all the
previous maps, could be detected by either compass or chronometer,
and the watch we used was an excellent one. The season of the year
was very unfavourable. The "smokes" filled the air with an
impenetrable haze, and the equinoctial gales made it impossible for
us to cross to the eastern side. When we caught a glimpse of the sun
rising from behind the mountains to the east, we made sketches and
bearings of them at different latitudes, which enabled us to secure
approximate measurements of the width. These agreed with the times
taken by the natives at the different crossing-places--as Tsenga and
Molamba. About the beginning of the upper third the lake is crossed
by taking advantage of the island Chizumara, which name in the native
tongue means the "ending;" further north they go round the end
instead, though that takes several days.
The lake appeared to be surrounded by mountains, but it was
afterwards found that these beautiful tree-covered heights were, on
the west, only the edges of high table-lands. Like all narrow seas
encircled by highlands, it is visited by sudden and tremendous
storms. We were on it in September and October, perhaps the
stormiest season of the year, and were repeatedly detained by gales.
At times, while sailing pleasantly over the blue water with a gentle
breeze, suddenly and without any warning was heard the sound of a
coming storm, roaring on with crowds of angry waves in its wake. We
were caught one morning with the sea breaking all around us, and,
unable either to advance or recede, anchored a mile from shore, in
seven fathoms. The furious surf on the beach would have shivered our
boat to atoms, had we tried to land. The waves most dreaded came
rolling on in threes, with their crests, driven into spray, streaming
behind them. A short lull followed each triple charge. Had one of
these seas struck our boat, nothing could have saved us; for they
came on with resistless force; seaward, in shore, and on either side
of us, they broke in foam, but we escaped. For six weary hours we
faced those terrible trios. A low, dark, detached, oddly shaped
cloud came slowly from the mountains, and hung for hours directly
over our heads. A flock of night-jars (Cometornis vexillarius),
which on no other occasion come out by day, soared above us in the
gale, like birds of evil omen. Our black crew became sea-sick and
unable to sit up or keep the boat's head to the sea. The natives and
our land party stood on the high cliffs looking at us and exclaiming,
as the waves seemed to swallow up the boat, "They are lost! they are
all dead!" When at last the gale moderated and we got safely ashore,
they saluted us warmly, as after a long absence. From this time we
trusted implicitly to the opinions of our seaman, John Neil, who,
having been a fisherman on the coast of Ireland, understood boating
on a stormy coast, and by his advice we often sat cowering on the
land for days together waiting for the surf to go down. He had never
seen such waves before. We had to beach the boat every night to save
her from being swamped at anchor; and, did we not believe the gales
to be peculiar to one season of the year, would call Nyassa the "Lake
of Storms."
Distinct white marks on the rocks showed that, for some time during
the rainy season, the water of the lake is three feet above the point
to which it falls towards the close of the dry period of the year.
The rains begin here in November, and the permanent rise of the Shire
does not take place till January. The western side of Lake Nyassa,
with the exception of the great harbour to the west of Cape Maclear,
is, as has been said before, a succession of small bays of nearly
similar form, each having an open sandy beach and pebbly shore, and
being separated from its neighbour by a rocky headland, with detached
rocks extending some distance out to sea. The great south-western
bay referred to would form a magnificent harbour, the only really
good one we saw to the west.
The land immediately adjacent to the lake is low and fertile, though
in some places marshy and tenanted by large flocks of ducks, geese,
herons, crowned cranes, and other birds. In the southern parts we
have sometimes ten or a dozen miles of rich plains, bordered by what
seem high ranges of well-wooded hills, running nearly parallel with
the lake. Northwards the mountains become loftier and present some
magnificent views, range towering beyond range, until the dim, lofty
outlines projected against the sky bound the prospect. Still further
north the plain becomes more narrow, until, near where we turned, it
disappears altogether, and the mountains rise abruptly out of the
lake, forming the north-east boundary of what was described to us as
an extensive table-land; well suited for pasturage and agriculture,
and now only partially occupied by a tribe of Zulus, who came from
the south some years ago. These people own large herds of cattle,
and are constantly increasing in numbers by annexing other tribes.
CHAPTER X.
The Lake tribes--The Mazitu--Quantities of elephants--Distressing
journey--Detention on the Shire.
Never before in Africa have we seen anything like the dense
population on the shores of Lake Nyassa. In the southern part there
was an almost unbroken chain of villages. On the beach of wellnigh
of every little sandy bay, dark crowds were standing, gazing at the
novel sight of a boat under sail; and wherever we landed we were
surrounded in a few seconds by hundreds of men, women, and children,
who hastened to have a stare at the "chirombo" (wild animals).
During a portion of the year, the northern dwellers on the lake have
a harvest which furnishes a singular sort of food. As we approached
our limit in that direction, clouds, as of smoke rising from miles of
burning grass, were observed bending in a south-easterly direction,
and we thought that the unseen land on the opposite side was closing
in, and that we were near the end of the lake. But next morning we
sailed through one of the clouds on our own side, and discovered that
it was neither smoke nor haze, but countless millions of minute
midges called "kungo" (a cloud or fog). They filled the air to an
immense height, and swarmed upon the water, too light to sink in it.
Eyes and mouth had to be kept closed while passing through this
living cloud: they struck upon the face like fine drifting snow.
Thousands lay in the boat when she emerged from the cloud of midges.
The people gather these minute insects by night, and boil them into
thick cakes, to be used as a relish--millions of midges in a cake. A
kungo cake, an inch thick, and as large as the blue bonnet of a
Scotch ploughman, was offered to us; it was very dark in colour, and
tasted not unlike caviare, or salted locusts.
Abundance of excellent fish is found in the lake, and nearly all were
new to us. The mpasa, or sanjika, found by Dr. Kirk to be a kind of
carp, was running up the rivers to spawn, like our salmon at home:
the largest we saw was over two feet in length; it is a splendid
fish, and the best we have ever eaten in Africa. They were ascending
the rivers in August and September, and furnished active and
profitable employment to many fishermen, who did not mind their being
out of season. Weirs were constructed full of sluices, in each of
which was set a large basket-trap, through whose single tortuous
opening the fish once in has but small chance of escape. A short
distance below the weir, nets are stretched across from bank to bank,
so that it seemed a marvel how the most sagacious sanjika could get
up at all without being taken. Possibly a passage up the river is
found at night; but this is not the country of Sundays or "close
times" for either men or fish. The lake fish are caught chiefly in
nets, although men, and even women with babies on their backs, are
occasionally seen fishing from the rocks with hooks.
A net with small meshes is used for catching the young fry of a
silvery kind like pickerel, when they are about two inches long;
thousands are often taken in a single haul. We had a present of a
large bucketful one day for dinner: they tasted as if they had been
cooked with a little quinine, probably from their gall-bladders being
left in. In deep water, some sorts are taken by lowering fish-
baskets attached by a long cord to a float, around which is often
tied a mass of grass or weeds, as an alluring shade for the deep-sea
fish. Fleets of fine canoes are engaged in the fisheries. The men
have long paddles, and stand erect while using them. They sometimes
venture out when a considerable sea is running. Our Makololo
acknowledge that, in handling canoes, the Lake men beat them; they
were unwilling to cross the Zambesi even, when the wind blew fresh.
Though there are many crocodiles in the lake, and some of an
extraordinary size, the fishermen say that it is a rare thing for any
one to be carried off by these reptiles. When crocodiles can easily
obtain abundance of fish--their natural food--they seldom attack men;
but when unable to see to catch their prey, from the muddiness of the
water in floods, they are very dangerous.
Many men and boys are employed in gathering the buaze, in preparing
the fibre, and in making it into long nets. The knot of the net is
different from ours, for they invariably use what sailors call the
reef knot, but they net with a needle like that we use. From the
amount of native cotton cloth worn in many of the southern villages,
it is evident that a great number of hands and heads must be employed
in the cultivation of cotton, and in the various slow processes
through which it has to pass, before the web is finished in the
native loom. In addition to this branch of industry, an extensive
manufacture of cloth, from the inner bark of an undescribed tree, of
the botanical group, Caesalpineae, is ever going on, from one end of
the lake to the other; and both toil and time are required to procure
the bark, and to prepare it by pounding and steeping it to render it
soft and pliable. The prodigious amount of the bark clothing worn
indicates the destruction of an immense number of trees every year;
yet the adjacent heights seem still well covered with timber.
The Lake people are by no means handsome: the women are VERY plain;
and really make themselves hideous by the means they adopt to render
themselves attractive. The pelele, or ornament for the upper lip, is
universally worn by the ladies; the most valuable is of pure tin,
hammered into the shape of a small dish; some are made of white
quartz, and give the wearer the appearance of having an inch or more
of one of Price's patent candles thrust through the lip, and
projecting beyond the tip of the nose.
In character, the Lake tribes are very much like other people; there
are decent men among them, while a good many are no better than they
should be. They are open-handed enough: if one of us, as was often
the case, went to see a net drawn, a fish was always offered.
Sailing one day past a number of men, who had just dragged their nets
ashore, at one of the fine fisheries at Pamalombe, we were hailed and
asked to stop, and received a liberal donation of beautiful fish.
Arriving late one afternoon at a small village on the lake, a number
of the inhabitants manned two canoes, took out their seine, dragged
it, and made us a present of the entire haul. The northern chief,
Marenga, a tall handsome man, with a fine aquiline nose, whom we
found living in his stockade in a forest about twenty miles north of
the mountain Kowirwe, behaved like a gentleman to us. His land
extended from Dambo to the north of Makuza hill. He was specially
generous, and gave us bountiful presents of food and beer. "Do they
wear such things in your country?" he asked, pointing to his iron
bracelet, which was studded with copper, and highly prized. The
Doctor said he had never seen such in his country, whereupon Marenga
instantly took it off, and presented it to him, and his wife also did
the same with hers. On our return south from the mountains near the
north end of the lake, we reached Marenga's on the 7th October. When
he could not prevail upon us to forego the advantage of a fair wind
for his invitation to "spend the whole day drinking his beer, which
was," he said, "quite ready," he loaded us with provisions, all of
which he sent for before we gave him any present. In allusion to the
boat's sail, his people said that they had no Bazimo, or none worth
having, seeing they had never invented the like for them. The chief,
Mankambira, likewise treated us with kindness; but wherever the
slave-trade is carried on, the people are dishonest and uncivil; that
invariably leaves a blight and a curse in its path. The first
question put to us at the lake crossing-places, was, "Have you come
to buy slaves?" On hearing that we were English, and never purchased
slaves, the questioners put on a supercilious air, and sometimes
refused to sell us food. This want of respect to us may have been
owing to the impressions conveyed to them by the Arabs, whose dhows
have sometimes been taken by English cruisers when engaged in lawful
trade. Much foreign cloth, beads, and brass-wire were worn by these
ferrymen--and some had muskets.
By Chitanda, near one of the slave crossing-places, we were robbed
for the first time in Africa, and learned by experience that these
people, like more civilized nations, have expert thieves among them.
It might be only a coincidence; but we never suffered from impudence,
loss of property, or were endangered, unless among people familiar
with slaving. We had such a general sense of security, that never,
save when we suspected treachery, did we set a watch at night. Our
native companions had, on this occasion, been carousing on beer, and
had removed to a distance of some thirty yards, that we might not
overhear their free and easy after-dinner remarks, and two of us had
a slight touch of fever; between three and four o'clock in the
morning some thieves came, while we slept ingloriously--rifles and
revolvers all ready,--and relieved us of most of our goods. The
boat's sail, under which we slept, was open all around, so the feat
was easy.
Awaking as honest men do, at the usual hour, the loss of one was
announced by "My bag is gone--with all my clothes; and my boots too!"
"And mine!" responded a second. "And mine also!" chimed in the
third, "with the bag of beads, and the rice!" "Is the cloth taken?"
was the eager inquiry, as that would have been equivalent to all our
money. It had been used for a pillow that night, and thus saved.
The rogues left on the beach, close to our beds, the Aneroid
Barometer and a pair of boots, thinking possibly that they might be
of use to us, or, at least, that they could be of none to them. They
shoved back some dried plants and fishes into one bag, but carried
off many other specimens we had collected; some of our notes also,
and nearly all our clothing.
We could not suspect the people of the village near which we lay. We
had probably been followed for days by the thieves watching for an
opportunity. And our suspicions fell on some persons who had come
from the East Coast; but having no evidence, and expecting to hear if
our goods were exposed for sale in the vicinity, we made no fuss
about it, and began to make new clothing. That our rifles and
revolvers were left untouched was greatly to our advantage: yet we
felt it was most humiliating for armed men to have been so thoroughly
fleeced by a few black rascals.
Some of the best fisheries appear to be private property. We found
shelter from a storm one morning in a spacious lagoon, which
communicated with the lake by a narrow passage. Across this strait
stakes were driven in, leaving only spaces for the basket fish-traps.
A score of men were busily engaged in taking out the fish. We tried
to purchase some, but they refused to sell. The fish did not belong
to them, they would send for the proprietor of the place. The
proprietor arrived in a short time, and readily sold what we wanted.
Some of the burying-grounds are very well arranged, and well cared
for; this was noticed at Chitanda, and more particularly at a village
on the southern shore of the fine harbour at Cape Maclear. Wide and
neat paths were made in the burying-ground on its eastern and
southern sides. A grand old fig-tree stood at the north-east corner,
and its wide-spreading branches threw their kindly shade over the
last resting-place of the dead. Several other magnificent trees grew
around the hallowed spot. Mounds were raised as they are at home,
but all lay north and south, the heads apparently north. The graves
of the sexes were distinguished by the various implements which the
buried dead had used in their different employments during life; but
they were all broken, as if to be employed no more. A piece of
fishing-net and a broken paddle told where a fisherman lay. The
graves of the women had the wooden mortar, and the heavy pestle used
in pounding the corn, and the basket in which the meal is sifted,
while all had numerous broken calabashes and pots arranged around
them. The idea that the future life is like the present does not
appear to prevail; yet a banana-tree had been carefully planted at
the head of several of the graves; the fruit might be considered an
offering to those who still possess human tastes. The people of the
neighbouring villages were friendly and obliging, and willingly
brought us food for sale.
Pursuing our exploration, we found that the northern part of the lake
was the abode of lawlessness and bloodshed. The Mazite, or Mazitu,
live on the highlands, and make sudden swoops on the villages of the
plains. They are Zulus who came originally from the south, inland of
Sofalla and Inhambane; and are of the same family as those who levy
annual tribute from the Portuguese on the Zambesi. All the villages
north of Mankambira's (lat. 11 degrees 44 minutes south) had been
recently destroyed by these terrible marauders, but they were foiled
in their attacks upon that chief and Marenga. The thickets and
stockades round their villages enabled the bowmen to pick off the
Mazitu in security, while they were afraid to venture near any place
where they could not use their shields. Beyond Mankambira's we saw
burned villages, and the putrid bodies of many who had fallen by
Mazitu spears only a few days before. Our land party were afraid to
go further. This reluctance to proceed without the presence of a
white man was very natural, because bands of the enemy who had
ravaged the country were supposed to be still roaming about; and if
these marauders saw none but men of their own colour, our party might
forthwith be attacked. Compliance with their request led to an event
which might have been attended by very serious consequences. Dr.
Livingstone got separated from the party in the boat for four days.
Having taken the first morning's journey along with them, and
directing the boat to call for him in a bay in sight, both parties
proceeded north. In an hour Dr. Livingstone and his party struck
inland, on approaching the foot of the mountains which rise abruptly
from the lake. Supposing that they had heard of a path behind the
high range which there forms the shore, those in the boat held on
their course; but it soon began to blow so fresh that they had to run
ashore for safety. While delayed a couple of hours, two men were
sent up the hills to look for the land party, but they could see
nothing of them, and the boat party sailed as soon as it was safe to
put to sea, with the conviction that the missing ones would regain
the lake in front.
In a short time a small island or mass of rocks was passed, on which
were a number of armed Mazitu with some young women, apparently their
wives. The headman said that he had been wounded in the foot by
Mankambira, and that they were staying there till he could walk to
his chief, who lived over the hills. They had several large canoes,
and it was evident that this was a nest of lake pirates, who sallied
out by night to kill and plunder. They reported a path behind the
hills, and, the crew being reassured, the boat sailed on. A few
miles further, another and still larger band of pirates were fallen
in with, and hundreds of crows and kites hovered over and round the
rocks on which they lived. Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone, though
ordered in a voice of authority to come ashore, kept on their course.
A number of canoes then shot out from the rocks and chased them. One
with nine strong paddlers persevered for some time after all the
others gave up the chase. A good breeze, however, enabled the gig to
get away from them with ease. After sailing twelve or fifteen miles,
north of the point where Dr. Livingstone had left them, it was
decided that he must be behind; but no sooner had the boat's head
been turned south, than another gale compelled her to seek shelter in
a bay. Here a number of wretched fugitives from the slave-trade on
the opposite shore of the lake were found; the original inhabitants
of the place had all been swept off the year before by the Mazitu.
In the deserted gardens beautiful cotton was seen growing, much of it
had the staple an inch and a half long, and of very fine quality.
Some of the plants were uncommonly large, deserving to be ranked with
trees.
On their trying to purchase food, the natives had nothing to sell
except a little dried cassava-root, and a few fish: and they
demanded two yards of calico for the head only of a large fish. When
the gale admitted of their return, their former pursuers tried to
draw them ashore by asserting that they had quantities of ivory for
sale. Owing to a succession of gales, it was the fourth day from
parting that the boat was found by Dr. Livingstone, who was coming on
in search of it with only two of his companions.
After proceeding a short distance up the path in which they had been
lost sight of, they learned that it would take several days to go
round the mountains, and rejoin the lake; and they therefore turned
down to the bay, expecting to find the boat, but only saw it
disappearing away to the north. They pushed on as briskly as
possible after it, but the mountain flank which forms the coast
proved excessively tedious and fatiguing; travelling all day, the
distance made, in a straight line, was under five miles. As soon as
day dawned, the march was resumed; and, after hearing at the first
inhabited rock that their companions had passed it the day before, a
goat was slaughtered out of the four which they had with them, when
suddenly, to the evident consternation of the men, seven Mazitu
appeared armed with spears and shields, with their heads dressed
fantastically with feathers. To hold a parley, Dr. Livingstone and
Moloka, a Makololo man who spoke Zulu, went unarmed to meet them. On
Dr. Livingstone approaching them, they ordered him to stop, and sit
down in the sun, while they sat in the shade. No, no!" was the
reply, "if you sit in the shade, so will we." They then rattled
their shields with their clubs, a proceeding which usually inspires
terror; but Moloka remarked, "It is not the first time we have heard
shields rattled." And all sat down together. They asked for a
present, to show their chief that they had actually met strangers--
something as evidence of having seen men who were not Arabs. And
they were requested in turn to take these strangers to the boat, or
to their chief. All the goods were in the boat, and to show that no
present such as they wanted was in his pockets, Dr. Livingstone
emptied them, turning out, among other things, a note-book: thinking
it was a pistol they started up, and said, "Put that in again." The
younger men then became boisterous, and demanded a goat. That could
not be spared, as they were the sole provisions. When they insisted,
they were asked how many of the party they had killed, that they thus
began to divide the spoil; this evidently made them ashamed. The
elders were more reasonable; they dreaded treachery, and were as much
afraid of Dr. Livingstone and his party as his men were of them; for
on leaving they sped away up the hills like frightened deer. One of
them, and probably the leader, was married, as seen by portions of
his hair sewn into a ring; all were observed by their teeth to be
people of the country, who had been incorporated into the Zulu tribe.
The way still led over a succession of steep ridges with ravines of
from 500 to 1000 feet in depth; some of the sides had to be scaled on
hands and knees, and no sooner was the top reached than the descent
began again. Each ravine had a running stream; and the whole
country, though so very rugged, had all been cultivated, and densely
peopled. Many banana-trees, uncared for patches of corn, and Congo-
bean bushes attested former cultivation. The population had all been
swept away; ruined villages, broken utensils, and human skeletons,
met with at every turn, told a sad tale. So numerous were the slain,
that it was thought the inhabitants had been slaughtered in
consequence of having made raids on the Zulus for cattle.
Continuing the journey that night as long as light served, they slept
unconsciously on the edge of a deep precipice, without fire, lest the
Mazitu should see it. Next morning most of the men were tired out,
the dread of the apparition of the day before tending probably to
increase the lameness of which they complained. When told, however,
that all might return to Mankambira's save two, Moloka and Charlie,
they would not, till assured that the act would not be considered one
of cowardice. Giving them one of the goats as provision, another was
slaughtered for the remainder of the party who, having found on the
rocks a canoe which had belonged to one of the deserted villages,
determined to put to sea again; but the craft was very small, and the
remaining goat, spite of many a threat of having its throat cut,
jumped and rolled about so, as nearly to capsize it; so Dr.
Livingstone took to the shore again, and after another night spent
without fire, except just for cooking, was delighted to see the boat
coming back.
We pulled that day to Mankambira's, a distance that on shore, with
the most heartbreaking toil, had taken three days to travel. This
was the last latitude taken, 11 degrees 44 minutes S. The boat had
gone about 24 minutes further to the north, the land party probably
half that distance, but fever prevented the instruments being used.
Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone were therefore furthest up the lake,
and they saw about 20 minutes beyond their turning-point, say into
the tenth degree of south latitude. From the heights of at least a
thousand feet, over which the land party toiled, the dark mountain
masses on both sides of the lake were seen closing in. At this
elevation the view extended at least as far as that from the boats,
and it is believed the end of the lake lies on the southern borders
of 10 degrees, or the northern limits of 11 degrees south latitude.
Elephants are numerous on the borders of the lake, and surprisingly
tame, being often found close to the villages. Hippopotami swarm
very much at their ease in the creeks and lagoons, and herds are
sometimes seen in the lake itself. Their tameness arises from the
fact that poisoned arrows have no effect on either elephant or
hippopotamus. Five of each were shot for food during our journey.
Two of the elephants were females, and had only a single tusk apiece,
and were each killed by the first shot. It is always a case of
famine or satiety when depending on the rifle for food--a glut of
meat or none at all. Most frequently it is scanty fare, except when
game is abundant, as it is far up the Zambesi. We had one morning
two hippopotami and an elephant, perhaps in all some eight tons of
meat, and two days after the last of a few sardines only for dinner.
One morning when sailing past a pretty thickly-inhabited part, we
were surprised at seeing nine large bull-elephants standing near the
beach quietly flapping their gigantic ears. Glad of an opportunity
of getting some fresh meat, we landed and fired into one. They all
retreated into a marshy piece of ground between two villages. Our
men gave chase, and fired into the herd. Standing on a sand hummock,
we could see the bleeding animals throwing showers of water with
their trunks over their backs. The herd was soon driven back upon
us, and a wounded one turned to bay. Yet neither this one, nor any
of the others, ever attempted to charge. Having broken his legs with
a rifle-ball, we fired into him at forty yards as rapidly as we could
load and discharge the rifles. He simply shook his head at each
shot, and received at least sixty Enfield balls before he fell. Our
excellent sailor from the north of Ireland happened to fire the last,
and, as soon as he saw the animal fall, he turned with an air of
triumph to the Doctor and exclaimed, "It was MY shot that done it,
sir!"
In a few minutes upwards of a thousand natives were round the
prostrate king of beasts; and, after our men had taken all they
wanted, an invitation was given to the villagers to take the
remainder. They rushed at it like hungry hyenas, and in an
incredibly short time every inch of it was carried off. It was only
by knowing that the meat would all be used that we felt justified in
the slaughter of this noble creature. The tusks weighed 62 lbs.
each. A large amount of ivory might be obtained from the people of
Nyassa, and we were frequently told of their having it in their huts.
While detained by a storm on the 17th October at the mouth of the
Kaombe, we were visited by several men belonging to an Arab who had
been for fourteen years in the interior at Katanga's, south of
Cazembe's. They had just brought down ivory, malachite, copper
rings, and slaves to exchange for cloth at the lake. The malachite
was said to be dug out of a large vein on the side of a hill near
Katanga's. They knew Lake Tanganyika well, but had not heard of the
Zambesi. They spoke quite positively, saying that the water of Lake
Tanganyika flowed out by the opposite end to that of Nyassa. As they
had seen neither of the overflows, we took it simply as a piece of
Arab geography. We passed their establishment of long sheds next
day, and were satisfied that the Arabs must be driving a good trade.
The Lake slave-trade was going on at a terrible rate. Two
enterprising Arabs had built a dhow, and were running her, crowded
with slaves, regularly across the Lake. We were told she sailed the
day before we reached their head-quarters. This establishment is in
the latitude of the Portuguese slave-exporting town of Iboe, and
partly supplies that vile market; but the greater number of the
slaves go to Kilwa. We did not see much evidence of a wish to
barter. Some ivory was offered for sale; but the chief traffic was
in human chattels. Would that we could give a comprehensive account
of the horrors of the slave-trade, with an approximation to the
number of lives it yearly destroys! for we feel sure that were even
half the truth told and recognized, the feelings of men would be so
thoroughly roused, that this devilish traffic in human flesh would be
put down at all risks; but neither we, nor any one else, have the
statistics necessary for a work of this kind. Let us state what we
do know of one portion of Africa, and then every reader who believes
our tale can apply the ratio of the known misery to find out the
unknown. We were informed by Colonel Rigby, late H.M. Political
Agent, and Consul at Zanzibar, that 19,000 slaves from this Nyassa
country alone pass annually through the Custom-house of that island.
This is exclusive of course of those sent to Portuguese slave-ports.
Let it not be supposed for an instant that this number, 19,000,
represents all the victims. Those taken out of the country are but a
very small section of the sufferers. We never realized the atrocious
nature of the traffic, until we saw it at the fountain-head. There
truly "Satan has his seat." Besides those actually captured,
thousands are killed and die of their wounds and famine, driven from
their villages by the slave raid proper. Thousands perish in
internecine war waged for slaves with their own clansmen and
neighbours, slain by the lust of gain, which is stimulated, be it
remembered always, by the slave purchasers of Cuba and elsewhere.
The many skeletons we have seen, amongst rocks and woods, by the
little pools, and along the paths of the wilderness, attest the awful
sacrifice of human life, which must be attributed, directly or
indirectly, to this trade of hell. We would ask our countrymen to
believe us when we say, as we conscientiously can, that it is our
deliberate opinion, from what we know and have seen, that not one-
fifth of the victims of the slave-trade ever become slaves. Taking
the Shire Valley as an average, we should say not even one-tenth
arrive at their destination. As the system, therefore, involves such
an awful waste of human life,--or shall we say of human labour?--and
moreover tends directly to perpetuate the barbarism of those who
remain in the country, the argument for the continuance of this
wasteful course because, forsooth, a fraction of the enslaved may
find good masters, seems of no great value. This reasoning, if not
the result of ignorance, may be of maudlin philanthropy. A small
armed steamer on Lake Nyassa could easily, by exercising a control,
and furnishing goods in exchange for ivory and other products, break
the neck of this infamous traffic in that quarter; for nearly all
must cross the Lake or the Upper Shire.
Our exploration of the Lake extended from the 2nd September to the
27th October, 1861; and, having expended or lost most of the goods we
had brought, it was necessary to go back to the ship. When near the
southern end, on our return, we were told that a very large slave-
party had just crossed to the eastern side. We heard the fire of
three guns in the evening, and judged by the report that they must be
at least six-pounders. They were said to belong to an Ajawa chief
named Mukata.
In descending the Shire, we found concealed in the broad belt of
papyrus round the lakelet Pamalombe, into which the river expands, a
number of Manganja families who had been driven from their homes by
the Ajawa raids. So thickly did the papyrus grow, that when beat
down it supported their small temporary huts, though when they walked
from one hut to another, it heaved and bent beneath their feet as
thin ice does at home.
A dense and impenetrable forest of the papyrus was left standing
between them and the land, and no one passing by on the same side
would ever have suspected that human beings lived there. They came
to this spot from the south by means of their canoes, which enabled
them to obtain a living from the fine fish which abound in the
lakelet. They had a large quantity of excellent salt sewed up in
bark, some of which we bought, our own having run out. We anchored
for the night off their floating camp, and were visited by myriads of
mosquitoes. Some of the natives show a love of country quite
surprising. We saw fugitives on the mountains, in the north of the
lake, who were persisting in clinging to the haunts of their boyhood
and youth, in spite of starvation and the continual danger of being
put to death by the Mazitu.
A few miles below the lakelet is the last of the great slave-
crossings. Since the Ajawa invasion the villages on the left bank
had been abandoned, and the people, as we saw in our ascent, were
living on the right or western bank.
As we were resting for a few minutes opposite the valuable fishery at
Movunguti, a young effeminate-looking man from some sea-coast tribe
came in great state to have a look at us. He walked under a large
umbrella, and was followed by five handsome damsels gaily dressed and
adorned with a view to attract purchasers. One was carrying his pipe
for smoking bang, here called "chamba;" another his bow and arrows; a
third his battle-axe; a fourth one of his robes; while the last was
ready to take his umbrella when he felt tired. This show of his
merchandise was to excite the cupidity of any chief who had ivory,
and may be called the lawful way of carrying on the slave-trade.
What proportion it bears to the other ways in which we have seen this
traffic pursued, we never found means of forming a judgment. He sat
and looked at us for a few minutes, the young ladies kneeling behind
him; and having satisfied himself that we were not likely to be
customers, he departed.
On our first trip we met, at the landing opposite this place, a
middle-aged woman of considerable intelligence, and possessing more
knowledge of the country than any of the men. Our first definite
information about Lake Nyassa was obtained from her. Seeing us
taking notes, she remarked that she had been to the sea, and had
there seen white men writing. She had seen camels also, probably
among the Arabs. She was the only Manganja woman we ever met who was
ashamed of wearing the "pelele," or lip-ring. She retired to her
hut, took it out, and kept her hand before her mouth to hide the
hideous hole in the lip while conversing with us. All the villagers
respected her, and even the headmen took a secondary place in her
presence. On inquiring for her now, we found that she was dead. We
never obtained sufficient materials to estimate the relative
mortality of the highlands and lowlands; but, from many very old
white-headed blacks having been seen on the highlands, we think it
probable that even native races are longer lived the higher their
dwelling-places are.
We landed below at Mikena's and took observations for longitude, to
verify those taken two years before. The village was deserted,
Mikena and his people having fled to the other side of the river. A
few had come across this morning to work in their old gardens. After
completing the observations we had breakfast; and, as the last of the
things were being carried into the boat, a Manganja man came running
down to his canoe, crying out, "The Ajawa have just killed my
comrade!" We shoved off, and in two minutes the advanced guard of a
large marauding party were standing with their muskets on the spot
where we had taken breakfast. They were evidently surprised at
seeing us there, and halted; as did also the main body of perhaps a
thousand men. "Kill them," cried the Manganja; "they are going up to
the hills to kill the English," meaning the missionaries we had left
at Magomero. But having no prospect of friendly communication with
them, nor confidence in Manganja's testimony, we proceeded down the
river; leaving the Ajawa sitting under a large baobab, and the
Manganja cursing them most energetically across the river.
On our way up, we had seen that the people of Zimika had taken refuge
on a long island in the Shire, where they had placed stores of grain
to prevent it falling into the hands of the Ajawa; supposing
afterwards that the invasion and war were past, they had removed back
again to the mainland on the east, and were living in fancied
security. On approaching the chief's village, which was built in the
midst of a beautiful grove of lofty wild-fig and palm trees, sounds
of revelry fell upon our ears. The people were having a merry time--
drumming, dancing, and drinking beer--while a powerful enemy was
close at hand, bringing death or slavery to every one in the village.
One of our men called out to several who came to the bank to look at
us, that the Ajawa were coming and were even now at Mikena's village;
but they were dazed with drinking, and took no notice of the warning.
Crowds of carriers offered their services after we left the river.
Several sets of them placed so much confidence in us, as to decline
receiving payment at the end of the first day; they wished to work
another day, and so receive both days' wages in one piece. The young
headman of a new village himself came on with his men. The march was
a pretty long one, and one of the men proposed to lay the burdens
down beside a hut a mile or more from the next village. The headman
scolded the fellow for his meanness in wishing to get rid of our
goods where we could not procure carriers, and made him carry them
on. The village, at the foot of the cataracts, had increased very
much in size and wealth since we passed it on our way up. A number
of large new huts had been built; and the people had a good stock of
cloth and beads. We could not account for this sudden prosperity,
until we saw some fine large canoes, instead of the two old, leaky
things which lay there before. This had become a crossing-place for
the slaves that the Portuguese agents were carrying to Tette, because
they were afraid to take them across nearer to where the ship lay,
about seven miles off. Nothing was more disheartening than this
conduct of the Manganja, in profiting by the entire breaking up of
their nation.
We reached the ship on the 8th of November, 1861, in a very weak
condition, having suffered more from hunger than on any previous
trip. Heavy rains commenced on the 9th, and continued several days;
the river rose rapidly, and became highly discoloured. Bishop
Mackenzie came down to the ship on the 14th, with some of the
"Pioneer's" men, who had been at Magomero for the benefit of their
health, and also for the purpose of assisting the Mission. The
Bishop appeared to be in excellent spirits, and thought that the
future promised fair for peace and usefulness. The Ajawa having been
defeated and driven off while we were on the Lake, had sent word that
they desired to live at peace with the English. Many of the Manganja
had settled round Magomero, in order to be under the protection of
the Bishop; and it was hoped that the slave-trade would soon cease in
the highlands, and the people be left in the secure enjoyment of
their industry. The Mission, it was also anticipated, might soon
become, to a considerable degree, self-supporting, and raise certain
kinds of food, like the Portuguese of Senna and Quillimane. Mr.
Burrup, an energetic young man, had arrived at Chibisa's the day
before the Bishop, having come up the Shire in a canoe. A surgeon
and a lay brother followed behind in another canoe. The "Pioneer's"
draught being too much for the upper part of the Shire, it was not
deemed advisable to bring her up, on the next trip, further than the
Ruo; the Bishop, therefore, resolved to explore the country from
Magomero to the mouth of that river, and to meet the ship with his
sisters and Mrs. Burrup, in January. This was arranged before
parting, and then the good Bishop and Burrup, whom we were never to
meet again, left us; they gave and received three hearty English
cheers as they went to the shore, and we steamed off.
The rains ceased on the 14th, and the waters of the Shire fell, even
more rapidly than they had risen. A shoal, twenty miles below
Chibisa's, checked our further progress, and we lay there five weary
weeks, till the permanent rise of the river took place. During this
detention, with a large marsh on each side, the first death occurred
in the Expedition which had now been three-and-a-half years in the
country. The carpenter's mate, a fine healthy young man, was seized
with fever. The usual remedies had no effect; he died suddenly while
we were at evening prayers, and was buried on shore. He came out in
the "Pioneer," and, with the exception of a slight touch of fever at
the mouth of the Rovuma, had enjoyed perfect health all the time he
had been with us. The Portuguese are of opinion that the European
who has immunity from this disease for any length of time after he
enters the country is more likely to be cut off by it when it does
come, than the man who has it frequently at first.
The rains became pretty general towards the close of December, and
the Shire was in flood in the beginning of January, 1862. At our
wooding-place, a mile above the Ruo, the water was three feet higher
than it was when we were here in June; and on the night of the 6th it
rose eighteen inches more, and swept down an immense amount of
brushwood and logs which swarmed with beetles and the two kinds of
shells which are common all over the African continent. Natives in
canoes were busy spearing fish in the meadows and creeks, and
appeared to be taking them in great numbers. Spur-winged geese, and
others of the knob-nosed species, took advantage of the low gardens
being flooded, and came to pilfer the beans. As we passed the Ruo,
on the 7th, and saw nothing of the Bishop, we concluded that he had
heard from his surgeon of our detention, and had deferred his
journey. He arrived there five days after, on the 12th.
After paying our Senna men, as they wished to go home, we landed them
here. All were keen traders, and had invested largely in native
iron-hoes, axes, and ornaments. Many of the hoes and spears had been
taken from the slaving parties whose captives we liberated; for on
these occasions our Senna friends were always uncommonly zealous and
active. The remainder had been purchased with the old clothes we had
given them and their store of hippopotamus meat: they had no fear of
losing them, or of being punished for aiding us. The system, in
which they had been trained, had eradicated the idea of personal
responsibility from their minds. The Portuguese slaveholders would
blame the English alone, they said; they were our servants at the
time. No white man on board could purchase so cheaply as these men
could. Many a time had their eloquence persuaded a native trader to
sell for a bit of dirty worn cloth things for which he had, but a
little before, refused twice the amount of clean new calico.
"Scissors" being troubled with a cough at night, received a present
of a quilted coverlet, which had seen a good deal of service. A few
days afterwards, a good chance of investing in hoes offering itself,
he ripped off both sides, tore them into a dozen pieces, and
purchased about a dozen hoes with them.
We entered the Zambesi on the 11th of January, and steamed down
towards the coast, taking the side on which we had come up; but the
channel had changed to the other side during the summer, as it
sometimes does, and we soon grounded. A Portuguese gentleman,
formerly a lieutenant in the army, and now living on Sangwisa, one of
the islands of the Zambesi, came over with his slaves, to aid us in
getting the ship off. He said frankly, that his people were all
great thieves, and we must be on our guard not to leave anything
about. He next made a short speech to his men, told them he knew
what thieves they were, but implored them not to steal from us, as we
would give them a present of cloth when the work was done. "The
natives of this country," he remarked to us, "think only of three
things, what they shall eat and drink, how many wives they can have,
and what they may steal from their master, if not how they may murder
him." He always slept with a loaded musket by his side. This
opinion may apply to slaves, but decidedly does not in our experience
apply to freemen. We paid his men for helping us, and believe that
even they, being paid, stole nothing from us. Our friend farms
pretty extensively the large island called Sangwisa,--lent him for
nothing by Senhor Ferrao,--and raises large quantities of mapira and
beans, and also beautiful white rice, grown from seed brought a few
years ago from South Carolina. He furnished us with some, which was
very acceptable; for though not in absolute want, we were living on
beans, salt pork, and fowls, all the biscuit and flour on board
having been expended.
We fully expected that the owners of the captives we had liberated
would show their displeasure, at least by their tongues; but they
seemed ashamed; only one ventured a remark, and he, in the course of
common conversation, said, with a smile, "You took the Governor's
slaves, didn't you?" "Yes, we did free several gangs that we met in
the Manganja country." The Portuguese of Tette, from the Governor
downwards, were extensively engaged in slaving. The trade is partly
internal and partly external: they send some of the captives, and
those bought, into the interior, up the Zambesi: some of these we
actually met on their way up the river. The young women were sold
there for ivory: an ordinary-looking one brought two arrobas, sixty-
four pounds weight, and an extra beauty brought twice that amount.
The men and boys were kept as carriers, to take the ivory down from
the interior to Tette, or were retained on farms on the Zambesi,
ready for export if a slaver should call: of this last mode of
slaving we were witnesses also. The slaves were sent down the river
chained, and in large canoes. This went on openly at Tette, and more
especially so while the French "Free Emigration" system was in full
operation. This double mode of disposing of the captives pays better
than the single system of sending them down to the coast for
exportation. One merchant at Tette, with whom we were well
acquainted, sent into the interior three hundred Manganja women to be
sold for ivory, and another sent a hundred and fifty.
CHAPTER XI.
Arrival of H.M.S. "Gorgon"--Dr. Livingstone's new steamer and Mrs.
Livingstone--Death of Mrs. Livingstone--Voyage to Johanna and the
Rovuma--An attack upon the "Pioneer's" boats.
We anchored on the Great Luabo mouth of the Zambesi, because wood was
much more easily obtained there than at the Kongone.
On the 30th, H.M.S. "Gorgon" arrived, towing the brig which brought
Mrs. Livingstone, some ladies about to join their relatives in the
Universities' Mission, and the twenty-four sections of a new iron
steamer intended for the navigation of Lake Nyassa. The "Pioneer"
steamed out, and towed the brig into the Kongone harbour. The new
steamer was called the "Lady of the Lake," or the "Lady Nyassa," and
as much as could be carried of her in one trip was placed, by the
help of the officers and men of the "Gorgon," on board the "Pioneer,"
and the two large paddle-box boats of H.M.'s ship. We steamed off
for Ruo on the 10th of February, having on board Captain Wilson, with
a number of his officers and men to help us to discharge the cargo.
Our progress up was distressingly slow. The river was in flood, and
we had a three-knot current against us in many places. These delays
kept us six months in the delta, instead of, as we anticipated, only
six days; for, finding it impossible to carry the sections up to the
Ruo without great loss of time, it was thought best to land them at
Shupanga, and, putting the hull of the "Lady Nyassa" together there,
to tow her up to the foot of the Murchison Cataracts.
A few days before the "Pioneer" reached Shupanga, Captain Wilson,
seeing the hopeless state of affairs, generously resolved to hasten
with the Mission ladies up to those who, we thought, were anxiously
awaiting their arrival, and therefore started in his gig for the Ruo,
taking Miss Mackenzie, Mrs. Burrup, and his surgeon, Dr. Ramsay.
They were accompanied by Dr. Kirk and Mr. Sewell, paymaster of the
"Gorgon," in the whale-boat of the "Lady Nyassa." As our slow-paced-
launch, "Ma Robert," had formerly gone up to the foot of the
cataracts in nine days' steaming, it was supposed that the boats
might easily reach the expected meeting-place at the Ruo in a week;
but the Shire was now in flood, and in its most rapid state; and they
were longer in getting up about half the distance, than it was hoped
they would be in the whole navigable part of the river. They could
hear nothing of the Bishop from the chief of the island, Malo, at the
mouth of the Ruo. "No white man had ever come to his village," he
said. They proceeded on to Chibisa's, suffering terribly from
mosquitoes at night. Their toil in stemming the rapid current made
them estimate the distance, by the windings, as nearer 300 than 200
miles. The Makololo who had remained at Chibisa's told them the sad
news of the death of the good Bishop and of Mr. Burrup. Other
information received there awakened fresh anxiety on behalf of the
survivors; so, leaving the ladies with Dr. Ramsay and the Makololo,
Captain Wilson and Dr. Kirk went up the hills, in hopes of being able
to render assistance, and on the way they met some of the Mission
party at Soche's. The excessive fatigue that our friends had
undergone in the voyage up to Chibisa's in no wise deterred them from
this further attempt for the benefit of their countrymen, but the
fresh labour, with diminished rations, was too much for their
strength. They were reduced to a diet of native beans and an
occasional fowl. Both became very ill of fever, Captain Wilson so
dangerously that his fellow-sufferer lost all hopes of his recovery.
His strong able-bodied cockswain did good service in cheerfully
carrying his much-loved Commander, and they managed to return to the
boat, and brought the two bereaved and sorrow-stricken ladies back to
the "Pioneer."
We learnt that the Bishop, wishing to find a shorter route down to
the Shire, had sent two men to explore the country between Magomero
and the junction of the Ruo; and in December Messrs. Proctor and
Scudamore, with a number of Manganja carriers, left Magomero for the
same purpose. They were to go close to Mount Choro, and then skirt
the Elephant Marsh, with Mount Clarendon on their left. Their guides
seem to have led them away to the east, instead of south; to the
upper waters of the Ruo in the Shirwa valley, instead of to its
mouth. Entering an Anguru slave-trading village, they soon began to
suspect that the people meant mischief, and just before sunset a
woman told some of their men that if they slept there they would all
be killed. On their preparing to leave, the Anguru followed them and
shot their arrows at the retreating party. Two of the carriers were
captured, and all the goods were taken by these robbers. An arrow-
head struck deep into the stock of Proctor's gun; and the two
missionaries, barely escaping with their lives, swam a deep river at
night, and returned to Magomero famished and exhausted.
The wives of the captive carriers came to the Bishop day after day
weeping and imploring him to rescue their husbands from slavery. The
men had been caught while in his service, no one else could be
entreated; there was no public law nor any power superior to his own,
to which an appeal could be made; for in him Church and State were,
in the disorganized state of the country, virtually united. It
seemed to him to be clearly his duty to try and rescue these
kidnapped members of the Mission family. He accordingly invited the
veteran Makololo to go with him on this somewhat hazardous errand.
Nothing could have been proposed to them which they would have liked
better, and they went with alacrity to eat the sheep of the Anguru,
only regretting that the enemy did not keep cattle as well. Had the
matter been left entirely in their hands, they would have made a
clean sweep of that part of the country; but the Bishop restrained
them, and went in an open manner, thus commending the measure to all
the natives, as one of justice. This deliberation, however, gave the
delinquents a chance of escape.
The missionaries were successful; the offending village was burned,
and a few sheep and goats were secured which could not be considered
other than a very mild punishment for the offence committed; the
headman, Muana-somba, afraid to retain the prisoners any longer,
forthwith liberated them, and they returned to their homes. This
incident took place at the time we were at the Ruo and during the
rains, and proved very trying to the health of the missionaries; they
were frequently wetted, and had hardly any food but roasted maize.
Mr. Scudamore was never well afterwards. Directly on their return to
Magomero, the Bishop and Mr. Burrup, both suffering from diarrhoea in
consequence of wet, hunger, and exposure, started for Chibisa's to go
down to the Ruo by the Shire. So fully did the Bishop expect a
renewal of the soaking wet from which he had just returned, that on
leaving Magomero he walked through the stream. The rivulets were so
swollen that it took five days to do a journey that would otherwise
have occupied only two days and a half.
None of the Manganja being willing to take them down the river during
the flood, three Makololo canoe-men agreed to go with them. After
paddling till near sunset, they decided to stop and sleep on shore;
but the mosquitoes were so numerous that they insisted on going on
again; the Bishop, being a week behind the time he had engaged to be
at the Ruo, reluctantly consented, and in the darkness the canoe was
upset in one of the strong eddies or whirlpools, which suddenly boil
up in flood time near the outgoing branches of the river; clothing,
medicines, tea, coffee, and sugar were all lost. Wet and weary, and
tormented by mosquitoes, they lay in the canoe till morning dawned,
and then proceeded to Malo, an island at the mouth of the Ruo, where
the Bishop was at once seized with fever.
Had they been in their usual health, they would doubtless have pushed
on to Shupanga, or to the ship; but fever rapidly prostrates the
energies, and induces a drowsy stupor, from which, if not roused by
medicine, the patient gradually sinks into the sleep of death. Still
mindful, however, of his office, the Bishop consoled himself by
thinking that he might gain the friendship of the chief, which would
be of essential service to him in his future labours. That heartless
man, however, probably suspicious of all foreigners from the
knowledge he had acquired of white slave-traders, wanted to turn the
dying Bishop out of the hut, as he required it for his corn, but
yielded to the expostulations of the Makololo. Day after day for
three weeks did these faithful fellows remain beside his mat on the
floor; till, without medicine or even proper food, he died. They dug
his grave on the edge of the deep dark forest where the natives
buried their dead. Mr. Burrup, himself far gone with dysentery,
staggered from the hut, and, as in the dusk of evening they committed
the Bishop's body to the grave, repeated from memory portions of our
beautiful service for the Burial of the Dead--"earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the resurrection
of the dead through our Lord Jesus Christ." And in this sad way
ended the earthly career of one, of whom it can safely be said that
for unselfish goodness of heart, and earnest devotion to the noble
work he had undertaken, none of the commendations of his friends can
exceed the reality. The grave in which his body rests is about a
hundred yards from the confluence of the Ruo, on the left bank of the
Shire, and opposite the island of Malo. The Makololo then took Mr.
Burrup up in the canoe as far as they could, and, making a litter of
branches, carried him themselves, or got others to carry him, all the
way back to his countrymen at Magomero. They hurried him on lest he
should die in their hands, and blame be attached to them. Soon after
his return he expired, from the disease which was on him when he
started to meet his wife.
Captain Wilson arrived at Shupanga on the 11th of March, having been
three weeks on the Shire. On the 15th the "Pioneer" steamed down to
the Kongone. The "Gorgon" had been driven out to sea in a gale, and
had gone to Johanna for provisions, and it was the 2nd of April
before she returned. It was fortunate for us that she had obtained a
supply, as our provisions were exhausted, and we had to buy some from
the master of the brig. The "Gorgon" left for the Cape on the 4th,
taking all, except one, of the Mission party who had come in January.
We take this opportunity of expressing our heartfelt gratitude to the
gallant Captain I. C. Wilson and his officers for innumerable acts of
kindness and hearty co-operation. Our warmest thanks are also due to
Captain R. B. Oldfield and the other officers from the Admiral
downwards, and we beg to assure them that nothing could be more
encouraging to us in our difficulties and trials, than the knowledge
that we possessed their friendship and sympathy in our labours.
The Rev. James Stewart, of the Free Church of Scotland, arrived in
the "Gorgon." He had wisely come out to inspect the country, before
deciding on the formation of a Mission in the interior. To this
object he devoted many months of earnest labour. This Mission was
intended to embrace both the industrial and the religious element;
and as the route by the Zambesi and Shire forms the only one at
present known, with but a couple of days' land journey to the
highlands, which stretch to an unknown distance into the continent,
and as no jealousy was likely to be excited in the mind of a man of
Bishop Mackenzie's enlarged views--there being moreover room for
hundreds of Missions--we gladly extended the little aid in our power
to an envoy from the energetic body above mentioned, but recommended
him to examine the field with his own eyes.
During our subsequent detention at Shupanga, he proceeded as far up
the Shire as the Upper Cataracts, and saw the mere remnants of that
dense population, which we at first had found living in peace and
plenty, but which was now scattered and destroyed by famine and
slave-hunting. The land, which both before and after we found so
fair and fruitful, was burned up by a severe drought; in fact, it was
at its very worst. With most praiseworthy energy, and in spite of
occasional attacks of fever, he then ascended the Zambesi as far as
Kebrabasa; and, what may be of interest to some, compared it, in
parts, to the Danube. His estimate of the highlands would naturally
be lower than ours. The main drawbacks in his opinion, however, were
the slave-trade, and the power allowed the effete Portuguese of
shutting up the country from all except a few convicts of their own
nation. The time of his coming was inopportune; the disasters which,
from inexperience, had befallen the Mission of the Universities, had
a depressing effect on the minds of many at home, and rendered a new
attempt unadvisable; though, had the Scotch perseverance and energy
been introduced, it is highly probable that they would have reacted,
most beneficially, on the zeal of our English brethren, and desertion
would never have been heard of. After examining the country, Mr.
Stewart descended the Zambesi in the beginning of the following year,
and proceeded homewards with his report, by Mosambique and the Cape.
On the 7th of April we had only one man fit for duty; all the rest
were down with fever, or with the vile spirit secretly sold to them
by the Portuguese officer of customs, in spite of our earnest request
to him to refrain from the pernicious traffic.
We started on the 11th for Shupanga with another load of the "Lady
Nyassa." As we steamed up the delta, we observed many of the natives
wearing strips of palm-leaf, the signs of sickness and mourning; for
they too suffer from fever. This is the unhealthy season; the rains
are over, and the hot sun draws up malaria from the decayed
vegetation; disease seemed peculiarly severe this year. On our way
up we met Mr. Waller, who had come from Magomero for provisions; the
missionaries were suffering severely from want of food; the liberated
people were starving, and dying of diarrhoea, and loathsome sores.
The Ajawa, stimulated in their slave raids by supplies of ammunition
and cloth from the Portuguese, had destroyed the large crops of the
past year; a drought had followed, and little or no food could be
bought. With his usual energy, Mr. Waller hired canoes, loaded them
with stores, and took them up the long weary way to Chibisa's.
Before he arrived he was informed that the Mission of the
Universities, now deprived of its brave leader, had retired from the
highlands down to the Low Shire Valley. This appeared to us, who
knew the danger of leading a sedentary life, the greatest mistake
they could have made, and was the result of no other counsel or
responsibility than their own. Waller would have reascended at once
to the higher altitude, but various objections stood in the way. The
loss of poor Scudamore and Dickinson, in this low-lying situation,
but added to the regret that the highlands had not received a fair
trial.
When the news of the Bishop's unfortunate collisions with the
natives, and of his untimely end, reached England, much blame was
imputed to him. The policy, which with the formal sanction of all
his companions he had adopted, being directly contrary to the advice
which Dr. Livingstone tendered, and to the assurances of the
peaceable nature of the Mission which the Doctor had given to the
natives, a friendly disapproval of a bishop's engaging in war was
ventured on, when we met him at Chibisa's in November. But when we
found his conduct regarded with so much bitterness in England,
whether from a disposition to "stand by the down man," or from having
an intimate knowledge of the peculiar circumstances of the country in
which he was placed, or from the thorough confidence which intimacy
caused us to repose in his genuine piety, and devout service of God,
we came to think much more leniently of his proceedings, than his
assailants did. He never seemed to doubt but that he had done his
duty; and throughout he had always been supported by his associates.
The question whether a Bishop, in the event of his flock being torn
from his bosom, may make war to rescue them, requires serious
consideration. It seems to narrow itself into whether a Christian
man may lawfully use the civil power or the sword at all in defensive
war, as police or otherwise. We would do almost anything to avoid a
collision with degraded natives; but in case of an invasion--our
blood boils at the very thought of our wives, daughters, or sisters
being touched--we, as men with human feelings, would unhesitatingly
fight to the death, with all the fury in our power.
The good Bishop was as intensely averse to using arms, before he met
the slave-hunters, as any man in England. In the course he pursued
he may have made a mistake, but it is a mistake which very few
Englishmen on meeting bands of helpless captives, or members of his
family in bonds, would have failed to commit likewise.
During unhealthy April, the fever was more severe in Shupanga and
Mazaro than usual. We had several cases on board--they were quickly
cured, but, from our being in the delta, as quickly returned. About
the middle of the month Mrs. Livingstone was prostrated by this
disease; and it was accompanied by obstinate vomiting. Nothing is
yet known that can allay this distressing symptom, which of course
renders medicine of no avail, as it is instantly rejected. She
received whatever medical aid could be rendered from Dr. Kirk, but
became unconscious, and her eyes were closed in the sleep of death as
the sunset on the evening of the Christian Sabbath, the 27th April,
1862. A coffin was made during the night, a grave was dug next day
under the branches of the great baobab-tree, and with sympathizing
hearts the little band of his countrymen assisted the bereaved
husband in burying his dead. At his request, the Rev. James Stewart
read the burial-service; and the seamen kindly volunteered to mount
guard for some nights at the spot where her body rests in hope.
Those who are not aware how this brave, good, English wife made a
delightful home at Kolobeng, a thousand miles inland from the Cape,
and as the daughter of Moffat and a Christian lady exercised most
beneficial influence over the rude tribes of the interior, may wonder
that she should have braved the dangers and toils of this down-
trodden land. She knew them all, and, in the disinterested and
dutiful attempt to renew her labours, was called to her rest instead.
"Fiat, Domine, voluntas tua!"
On the 5th of May Dr. Kirk and Charles Livingstone started in the
boat for Tette, in order to see the property of the Expedition
brought down in canoes. They took four Mazaro canoe-men to manage
the boat, and a white sailor to cook for them; but, unfortunately, he
caught fever the very day after leaving the ship, and was ill most of
the trip; so they had to cook for themselves, and to take care of him
besides.
We now proceeded with preparations for the launch of the "Lady
Nyassa." Ground was levelled on the bank at Shupanga, for the
purpose of arranging the compartments in order: she was placed on
palm-trees which were brought from a place lower down the river for
ways, and the engineer and his assistants were soon busily engaged;
about a fortnight after they were all brought from Kongone, the
sections were screwed together. The blacks are more addicted to
stealing where slavery exists than elsewhere. We were annoyed by
thieves who carried off the iron screw-bolts, but were gratified to
find that strychnine saved us from the man-thief as well as the
hyena-thief. A hyena was killed by it, and after the natives saw the
dead animal and knew how we had destroyed it, they concluded that it
was not safe to steal from men who possessed a medicine so powerful.
The half-caste, who kept Shupanga-house, said he wished to have some
to give to the Zulus, of whom he was mortally afraid, and to whom he
had to pay an unwilling tribute.
The "Pioneer" made several trips to the Kongone, and returned with
the last load on the 12th of June. On the 23rd the "Lady Nyassa" was
safely launched, the work of putting her together having been
interrupted by fever and dysentery, and many other causes which it
would only weary the reader to narrate in detail. Natives from all
parts of the country came to see the launch, most of them quite
certain that, being made of iron, she must go to the bottom as soon
as she entered the water. Earnest discussions had taken place among
them with regard to the propriety of using iron for ship-building.
The majority affirmed that it would never answer. They said, "If we
put a hoe into the water, or the smallest bit of iron, it sinks
immediately. How then can such a mass of iron float? it must go to
the bottom." The minority answered that this might be true with
them, but white men had medicine for everything. "They could even
make a woman, all except the speaking; look at that one on the
figure-head of the vessel." The unbelievers were astonished, and
could hardly believe their eyes, when they saw the ship float lightly
and gracefully on the river, instead of going to the bottom, as they
so confidently predicted. "Truly," they said, "these men have
powerful medicine."
Birds are numerous on the Shupanga estate. Some kinds remain all the
year round, while many others are there only for a few months.
Flocks of green pigeons come in April to feed on the young fruit of
the wild fig-trees, which is also eaten by a large species of bat in
the evenings. The pretty little black weaver, with yellow shoulders,
appears to enjoy life intensely after assuming his wooing dress. A
hearty breakfast is eaten in the mornings and then come the hours for
making merry. A select party of three or four perch on the bushes
which skirt a small grassy plain, and cheer themselves with the music
of their own quiet and self-complacent song. A playful performance
on the wind succeeds. Expanding his soft velvet-like plumage, one
glides with quivering pinions to the centre of the open space,
singing as he flies, then turns with a rapid whirring sound from his
wings--somewhat like a child's rattle--and returns to his place
again. One by one the others perform the same feat, and continue the
sport for hours, striving which can produce the loudest brattle while
turning. These games are only played during the season of courting
and of the gay feathers; the merriment seems never to be thought of
while the bird wears his winter suit of sober brown.
We received two mules from the Cape to aid us in transporting the
pieces of the "Lady Nyassa" past the cataracts and landed them at
Shupanga, but they soon perished. A Portuguese gentleman kindly
informed us, AFTER both the mules were dead, that he knew they would
die; for the land there had been often tried, and nothing would live
on it--not even a pig. He said he had not told us so before, because
he did not like to appear officious!
By the time everything had been placed on board the "Lady Nyassa,"
the waters of the Zambesi and the Shire had fallen so low that it was
useless to attempt taking her up to the cataracts before the rains in
December. Draught oxen and provisions also were required, and could
not be obtained nearer than the Island of Johanna. The Portuguese,
without refusing positively to let trade enter the Zambesi, threw
impediments in the way; they only wanted a small duty! They were
about to establish a river police, and rearrange the Crown lands,
which have long since become Zulu lands; meanwhile they were making
the Zambesi, by slaving, of no value to any one.
The Rovuma, which was reported to come from Lake Nyassa, being out of
their claims and a free river, we determined to explore it in our
boats immediately on our return from Johanna, for which place, after
some delay at the Kongone, in repairing engines, paddle-wheel, and
rudder, we sailed on the 6th of August. A store of naval provisions
had been formed on a hulk in Pomone Bay of that island for the supply
of the cruisers, and was in charge of Mr. Sunley, the Consul, from
whom we always received the kindest attentions and assistance. He
now obliged us by parting with six oxen, trained for his own use in
sugar-making. Though sadly hampered in his undertaking by being
obliged to employ slave labour, he has by indomitable energy overcome
obstacles under which most persons would have sunk. He has done all
that under the circumstances could be done to infuse a desire for
freedom, by paying regular wages; and has established a large
factory, and brought 300 acres of rich soil under cultivation with
sugar-cane. We trust he will realize the fortune which he so well
deserves to earn. Had Mr. Sunley performed the same experiment on
the mainland, where people would have flocked to him for the wages he
now gives, he would certainly have inaugurated a new era on the East
Coast of Africa. On a small island where the slaveholders have
complete power over the slaves, and where there is no free soil such
as is everywhere met with in Africa, the experiment ought not to be
repeated. Were Mr. Sunley commencing again, it should neither be in
Zanzibar nor Johanna, but on African soil, where, if even a slave is
ill-treated, he can easily by flight become free. On an island under
native rule a joint manufacture by Arabs and Englishmen might only
mean that the latter were to escape the odium of flogging the slaves.
On leaving Johanna and our oxen for a time, H.M.S. "Orestes" towed us
thence to the mouth of the Rovuma at the beginning of September.
Captain Gardner, her commander, and several of his officers,
accompanied us up the river for two days in the gig and cutter. The
water was unusually low, and it was rather dull work for a few hours
in the morning; but the scene became livelier and more animated when
the breeze began to blow. Our four boats they swept on under full
sail, the men on the look out in the gig and cutter calling, "Port,
sir!" "Starboard, sir!" "As you go, sir!" while the black men in
the bows of the others shouted the practical equivalents, "Pagombe!
Pagombe!" "Enda quete!" "Berane! Berane!" Presently the leading-
boat touches on a sandbank; down comes the fluttering sail; the men
jump out to shove her off, and the other boats, shunning the
obstruction, shoot on ahead to be brought up each in its turn by
mistaking a sandbank for the channel, which had often but a very
little depth of water.
A drowsy herd of hippopotami were suddenly startled by a score of
rifle-shots, and stared in amazement at the strange objects which had
invaded their peaceful domains, until a few more bullets compelled
them to seek refuge at the bottom of the deep pool, near which they
had been quietly reposing. On our return, one of the herd
retaliated. He followed the boat, came up under it, and twice tried
to tear the bottom out of it; but fortunately it was too flat for his
jaws to get a good grip, so he merely damaged one of the planks with
his tusks, though he lifted the boat right up, with ten men and a ton
of ebony in it.
We slept, one of the two nights Captain Gardner was with us, opposite
the lakelet Chidia, which is connected with the river in flood time,
and is nearly surrounded by hills some 500 or 600 feet high, dotted
over with trees. A few small groups of huts stood on the hill-sides,
with gardens off which the usual native produce had been reaped. The
people did not seem much alarmed by the presence of the large party
which had drawn up on the sandbanks below their dwellings. There is
abundance of large ebony in the neighbourhood. The pretty little
antelope (Cephalophus caeruleus), about the size of a hare, seemed to
abound, as many of their skins were offered for sale. Neat figured
date-leaf mats of various colours are woven here, the different dyes
being obtained from the barks of trees. Cattle could not live on the
banks of the Rovuma on account of the tsetse, which are found from
near the mouth, up as far as we could take the boats. The navigation
did not improve as we ascended; snags, brought down by the floods,
were common, and left in the channel on the sudden subsidence of the
water. In many places, where the river divided into two or three
channels, there was not water enough in any of them for a boat
drawing three feet, so we had to drag ours over the shoals; but we
saw the river at its very lowest, and it may be years before it is so
dried up again.
The valley of the Rovuma, bounded on each side by a range of
highlands, is from two to four miles in width, and comes in a pretty
straight course from the W.S.W.; but the channel of the river is
winding, and now at its lowest zigzagged so perversely, that
frequently the boats had to pass over three miles to make one in a
straight line. With a full stream it must of course be much easier
work. Few natives were seen during the first week. Their villages
are concealed in the thick jungle on the hill-sides, for protection
from marauding slave-parties. Not much of interest was observed on
this part of the silent and shallow river. Though feeling convinced
that it was unfit for navigation, except for eight months of the
year, we pushed on, resolved to see if, further inland, the accounts
we had received from different naval officers of its great
capabilities would prove correct; or if, by communication with Lake
Nyassa, even the upper part could be turned to account. Our
exploration showed us that the greatest precaution is required in
those who visit new countries.
The reports we received from gentlemen, who had entered the river and
were well qualified to judge, were that the Rovuma was infinitely
superior to the Zambesi, in the absence of any bar at its mouth, in
its greater volume of water, and in the beauty of the adjacent lands.
We probably came at a different season from that in which they
visited it, and our account ought to be taken with theirs to arrive
at the truth. It might be available as a highway for commerce during
three quarters of each year; but casual visitors, like ourselves and
others, are all ill able to decide. The absence of animal life was
remarkable. Occasionally we saw pairs of the stately jabirus, or
adjutant-looking marabouts, wading among the shoals, and spur-winged
geese, and other water-fowl, but there was scarcely a crocodile or a
hippopotamus to be seen.
At the end of the first week, an old man called at our camp, and said
he would send a present from his village, which was up among the
hills. He appeared next morning with a number of his people,
bringing meal, cassava-root, and yams. The language differs
considerably from that on the Zambesi, but it is of the same family.
The people are Makonde, and are on friendly terms with the Mabiha,
and the Makoa, who live south of the Rovuma. When taking a walk up
the slopes of the north bank, we found a great variety of trees we
had seen nowhere else. Those usually met with far inland seem here
to approach the coast. African ebony, generally named mpingu, is
abundant within eight miles of the sea; it attains a larger size, and
has more of the interior black wood than usual. A good timber tree
called mosoko is also found; and we saw half-caste Arabs near the
coast cutting up a large log of it into planks. Before reaching the
top of the rise we were in a forest of bamboos. On the plateau
above, large patches were cleared and cultivated. A man invited us
to take a cup of beer; on our complying with his request, the fear
previously shown by the bystanders vanished. Our Mazaro men could
hardly understand what they said. Some of them waded in the river
and caught a curious fish in holes in the claybank. Its ventral fin
is peculiar, being unusually large, and of a circular shape, like
boys' playthings called "suckers." We were told that this fish is
found also in the Zambesi, and is called Chirire. Though all its
fins are large, it is asserted that it rarely ventures out into the
stream, but remains near its hole, where it is readily caught by the
hand.
The Zambesi men thoroughly understood the characteristic marks of
deep or shallow water, and showed great skill in finding out the
proper channel. The Molimo is the steersman at the helm, the
Mokadamo is the head canoe-man, and he stands erect on the bows with
a long pole in his hands, and directs the steersman where to go,
aiding the rudder, if necessary, with his pole. The others preferred
to stand and punt our boat, rather than row with our long oars, being
able to shove her ahead faster than they could pull her. They are
accustomed to short paddles. Our Mokadamo was affected with moon-
blindness, and could not see at all at night. His comrades then led
him about, and handed him his food. They thought that it was only
because his eyes rested all night, that he could see the channel so
well by day. At difficult places the Mokadamo sometimes, however,
made mistakes, and ran us aground; and the others, evidently imbued
with the spirit of resistance to constituted authority, and led by
Joao an aspirant for the office, jeered him for his stupidity. "Was
he asleep? Why did he allow the boat to come there? Could he not
see the channel was somewhere else?" At last the Mokadamo threw down
the pole in disgust, and told Joao he might be a Mokadamo himself.
The office was accepted with alacrity; but in a few minutes he too
ran us into a worse difficulty than his predecessor ever did, and was
at once disrated amidst the derision of his comrades.
On the 16th September, we arrived at the inhabited island of
Kichokomane. The usual way of approaching an unknown people is to
call out in a cheerful tone "Malonda!" Things for sale, or do you
want to sell anything? If we can obtain a man from the last village,
he is employed, though only useful in explaining to the next that we
come in a friendly way. The people here were shy of us at first, and
could not be induced to sell any food; until a woman, more
adventurous than the rest, sold us a fowl. This opened the market,
and crowds came with fowls and meal, far beyond our wants. The women
are as ugly as those on Lake Nyassa, for who can be handsome wearing
the pelele, or upper-lip ring, of large dimensions? We were once
surprised to see young men wearing the pelele, and were told that in
the tribe of the Mabiha, on the south bank, men as well as women wore
them.
Along the left bank, above Kichokomane, is an exceedingly fertile
plain, nearly two miles broad, and studded with a number of deserted
villages. The inhabitants were living in temporary huts on low naked
sandbanks; and we found this to be the case as far as we went. They
leave most of their property and food behind, because they are not
afraid of these being stolen, but only fear being stolen themselves.
The great slave-route from Nyassa to Kilwa passes to N.E. from S.W.,
just beyond them; and it is dangerous to remain in their villages at
this time of year, when the kidnappers are abroad. In one of the
temporary villages, we saw, in passing, two human heads lying on the
ground. We slept a couple of miles above this village.
Before sunrise next morning, a large party armed with bows and arrows
and muskets came to the camp, two or three of them having a fowl
each, which we refused to purchase, having bought enough the day
before. They followed us all the morning, and after breakfast those
on the left bank swam across and joined the main party on the other
side. It was evidently their intention to attack us at a chosen
spot, where we had to pass close to a high bank, but their plan was
frustrated by a stiff breeze sweeping the boat past, before the
majority could get to the place. They disappeared then, but came out
again ahead of us, on a high wooded bank, walking rapidly to the
bend, near which we were obliged to sail. An arrow was shot at the
foremost boat; and seeing the force at the bend, we pushed out from
the side, as far as the shoal water would permit, and tried to bring
them to a parley, by declaring that we had not come to fight, but to
see the river. "Why did you fire a gun, a little while ago?" they
asked. "We shot a large puff-adder, to prevent it from killing men;
you may see it lying dead on the beach." With great courage, our
Mokadamo waded to within thirty yards of the bank, and spoke with
much earnestness, assuring them that we were a peaceable party, and
had not come for war, but to see the river. We were friends, and our
countrymen bought cotton and ivory, and wished to come and trade with
them. All we wanted was to go up quietly to look at the river, and
then return to the sea. While he was talking with those on the
shore, the old rogue, who appeared to be the ringleader, stole up the
bank, and with a dozen others, waded across to the island, near which
the boats lay, and came down behind us. Wild with excitement, they
rushed into the water, and danced in our rear, with drawn bows,
taking aim, and making various savage gesticulations. Their leader
urged them to get behind some snags, and then shoot at us. The party
on the bank in front had many muskets--and those of them, who had
bows, held them with arrows ready set in the bowstrings. They had a
mass of thick bush and trees behind them, into which they could in a
moment dart, after discharging their muskets and arrows, and be
completely hidden from our sight; a circumstance that always gives
people who use bows and arrows the greatest confidence.
Notwithstanding these demonstrations, we were exceedingly loath to
come to blows. We spent a full half-hour exposed at any moment to be
struck by a bullet or poisoned arrow. We explained that we were
better armed than they were, and had plenty of ammunition, the
suspected want of which often inspires them with courage, but that we
did not wish to shed the blood of the children of the same Great
Father with ourselves; that if we must fight, the guilt would be all
theirs.
This being a common mode of expostulation among themselves, we so far
succeeded, that with great persuasion the leader and others laid down
their arms, and waded over from the bank to the boats to talk the
matter over. "This was their river; they did not allow white men to
use it. We must pay toll for leave to pass." It was somewhat
humiliating to do so, but it was pay or fight; and, rather than
fight, we submitted to the humiliation of paying for their
friendship, and gave them thirty yards of cloth. They pledged
themselves to be our friends ever afterwards, and said they would
have food cooked for us on our return. We then hoisted sail, and
proceeded, glad that the affair had been amicably settled. Those on
shore walked up to the bend above to look at the boat, as we
supposed; but the moment she was abreast of them, they gave us a
volley of musket-balls and poisoned arrows, without a word of
warning. Fortunately we were so near, that all the arrows passed
clear over us, but four musket-balls went through the sail just above
our heads. All our assailants bolted into the bushes and long grass
the instant after firing, save two, one of whom was about to
discharge a musket and the other an arrow, when arrested by the fire
of the second boat. Not one of them showed their faces again, till
we were a thousand yards away. A few shots were then fired over
their heads, to give them an idea of the range of our rifles, and
they all fled into the woods. Those on the sandbank rushed off too,
with the utmost speed; but as they had not shot at us, we did not
molest them, and they went off safely with their cloth. They
probably expected to kill one of our number, and in the confusion rob
the boats. It is only where the people are slavers that the natives
of this part of Africa are bloodthirsty.
These people have a bad name in the country in front, even among
their own tribe. A slave-trading Arab we met above, thinking we were
then on our way down the river, advised us not to land at the
villages, but to stay in the boats, as the inhabitants were
treacherous, and attacked at once, without any warning or
provocation. Our experience of their conduct fully confirmed the
truth of what he said. There was no trade on the river where they
lived, but beyond that part there was a brisk canoe-trade in rice and
salt; those further in the interior cultivating rice, and sending it
down the river to be exchanged for salt, which is extracted from the
earth in certain places on the banks. Our assailants hardly
anticipated resistance, and told a neighbouring chief that, if they
had known who we were, they would not have attacked English, who can
"bite hard." They offered no molestations on our way down, though we
were an hour in passing their village. Our canoe-men plucked up
courage on finding that we had come off unhurt. One of them, named
Chiku, acknowledging that he had been terribly frightened, said.
"His fear was not the kind which makes a man jump overboard and run
away; but that which brings the heart up to the mouth, and renders
the man powerless, and no more able to fight than a woman."
In the country of Chonga Michi, about 80 or 90 miles up the river, we
found decent people, though of the same tribe, who treated strangers
with civility. A body of Makoa had come from their own country in
the south, and settled here. The Makoa are known by a cicatrice in
the forehead shaped like the new moon with the horns turned
downwards. The tribe possesses all the country west of Mosambique;
and they will not allow any of the Portuguese to pass into their
country more than two hours' distance from the fort. A hill some ten
or twelve miles distant, called Pau, has been visited during the
present generation only by one Portuguese and one English officer,
and this visit was accomplished only by the influence of the private
friendship of a chief for this Portuguese gentleman. Our allies have
occupied the Fort of Mosambique for three hundred years, but in this,
as in all other cases, have no power further than they can see from a
gun-carriage.
The Makoa chief, Matingula, was hospitable and communicative, telling
us all he knew of the river and country beyond. He had been once to
Iboe and once at Mosambique with slaves. Our men understood his
language easily. A useless musket he had bought at one of the above
places was offered us for a little cloth. Having received a present
of food from him, a railway rug was handed to him: he looked at it--
had never seen cloth like that before--did not approve of it, and
would rather have cotton cloth. "But this will keep you warm at
night."--"Oh, I do not wish to be kept warm at night."--We gave him a
bit of cotton cloth, not one-third the value of the rug, but it was
more highly prized. His people refused to sell their fowls for our
splendid prints and drab cloths. They had probably been taken in
with gaudy-patterned sham prints before. They preferred a very
cheap, plain, blue stuff of which they had experience. A great
quantity of excellent honey is collected all along the river, by bark
hives being placed for the bees on the high trees on both banks.
Large pots of it, very good and clear, were offered in exchange for a
very little cloth. No wax was brought for sale; there being no
market for this commodity, it is probably thrown away as useless.
At Michi we lose the tableland which, up to this point, bounds the
view on both sides of the river, as it were, with ranges of flat-
topped hills, 600 or 800 feet high; and to this plateau a level
fertile plain succeeds, on which stand detached granite hills. That
portion of the tableland on the right bank seems to bend away to the
south, still preserving the appearance of a hill range. The height
opposite extends a few miles further west, and then branches off in a
northerly direction. A few small pieces of coal were picked up on
the sandbanks, showing that this useful mineral exists on the Rovuma,
or on some of its tributaries: the natives know that it will burn.
At the lakelet Chidia, we noticed the same sandstone rock, with
fossil wood on it, which we have on the Zambesi, and knew to be a
sure evidence of coal beneath. We mentioned this at the time to
Captain Gardner, and our finding coal now seemed a verification of
what we then said; the coal-field probably extends from the Zambesi
to the Rovuma, if not beyond it. Some of the rocks lower down have
the permanent water-line three feet above the present height of the
water.
A few miles west of the Makoa of Matingula, we came again among the
Makonde, but now of good repute. War and slavery have driven them to
seek refuge on the sand-banks. A venerable-looking old man hailed us
as we passed, and asked us if we were going by without speaking. We
landed, and he laid down his gun and came to us; he was accompanied
by his brother, who shook hands with every one in the boat, as he had
seen people do at Kilwa. "Then you have seen white men before?" we
said. "Yes," replied the polite African, "but never people of your
quality." These men were very black, and wore but little clothing.
A young woman, dressed in the highest style of Makonde fashion,
punting as dexterously as a man could, brought a canoe full of girls
to see us. She wore an ornamental head-dress of red beads tied to
her hair on one side of her head, a necklace of fine beads of various
colours, two bright figured brass bracelets on her left arm, and
scarcely a farthing's worth of cloth, though it was at its cheapest.
As we pushed on westwards, we found that the river makes a little
southing, and some reaches were deeper than any near the sea; but
when we had ascended about 140 miles by the river's course from the
sea, soft tufa rocks began to appear; ten miles beyond, the river
became more narrow and rocky, and when, according to our measurement,
we had ascended 156 miles, our further progress was arrested. We
were rather less than two degrees in a straight line from the Coast.
The incidents worth noticing were but few: seven canoes with loads
of salt and rice kept company with us for some days, and the further
we went inland, the more civil the people became.
When we came to a stand, just below the island of Nyamatolo, Long. 38
degrees 36 minutes E., and Lat. 11 degrees 53 minutes, the river was
narrow, and full of rocks. Near the island there is a rocky rapid
with narrow passages fit only for native canoes; the fall is small,
and the banks quite low; but these rocks were an effectual barrier to
all further progress in boats. Previous reports represented the
navigable part of this river as extending to the distance of a
month's sail from its mouth; we found that, at the ordinary heights
of the water, a boat might reach the obstructions which seem peculiar
to all African rivers in six or eight days. The Rovuma is remarkable
for the high lands that flank it for some eighty miles from the
ocean. The cataracts of other rivers occur in mountains, those of
the Rovuma are found in a level part, with hills only in the
distance. Far away in the west and north we could see high blue
heights, probably of igneous origin from their forms, rising out of a
plain.
The distance from Ngomano, a spot thirty miles further up, to the
Arab crossing-places of Lake Nyassa Tsenga or Kotakota was said to be
twelve days. The way we had discovered to Lake Nyassa by Murchison's
Cataracts had so much less land carriage, that we considered it best
to take our steamer thither, by the route in which we were well
known, instead of working where we were strangers; and accordingly we
made up our minds to return.
The natives reported a worse place above our turning-point--the
passage being still narrower than this. An Arab, they said, once
built a boat above the rapids, and sent it down full of slaves; but
it was broken to pieces in these upper narrows. Many still
maintained that the Rovuma came from Nyassa, and that it is very
narrow as it issues out of the lake. One man declared that he had
seen it with his own eyes as it left the lake, and seemed displeased
at being cross-questioned, as if we doubted his veracity.
More satisfactory information, as it appeared to us, was obtained
from others. Two days, or thirty miles, beyond where we turned back,
the Rovuma is joined by the Liende, which, coming from the south-
west, rises in the mountains on the east side of Nyassa. The great
slave route to Kilwa runs up the banks of this river, which is only
ankle-deep at the dry season of the year. The Rovuma itself comes
from the W.N.W., and after the traveller passes the confluence of the
Liende at Ngomano or "meeting-place," the chief of which part is
named Ndonde, he finds the river narrow, and the people Ajawa.
Crocodiles in the Rovuma have a sorry time of it. Never before were
reptiles so persecuted and snubbed. They are hunted with spears, and
spring traps are set for them. If one of them enters an inviting
pool after fish, he soon finds a fence thrown round it, and a spring
trap set in the only path out of the enclosure. Their flesh is
eaten, and relished. The banks, on which the female lays her eggs by
night, are carefully searched by day, and all the eggs dug out and
devoured. The fish-hawk makes havoc among the few young ones that
escape their other enemies. Our men were constantly on the look-out
for crocodiles' nests. One was found containing thirty-five newly-
laid eggs, and they declared that the crocodile would lay as many
more the second night in another place. The eggs were a foot deep in
the sand on the top of a bank ten feet high. The animal digs a hole
with its foot, covers the eggs, and leaves them till the river rises
over the nest in about three months afterwards, when she comes back,
and assists the young ones out. We once saw opposite Tette young
crocodiles in December, swimming beside an island in company with an
old one. The yolk of the egg is nearly as white as the real white.
In taste they resemble hen's eggs with perhaps a smack of custard,
and would be as highly relished by whites as by blacks, were it not
for their unsavoury origin in men-eaters.
Hunting the Senze (Aulacodus Swindernianus), an animal the size of a
large cat, but in shape more like a pig, was the chief business of
men and boys as we passed the reedy banks and low islands. They set
fire to a mass of reeds, and, armed with sticks, spears, bows and
arrows, stand in groups guarding the outlets through which the seared
Senze may run from the approaching flames. Dark dense volumes of
impenetrable smoke now roll over on the lee side of the islet, and
shroud the hunters. At times vast sheets of lurid flames bursting
forth, roaring, crackling and exploding, leap wildly far above the
tall reeds. Out rush the terrified animals, and amid the smoke are
seen the excited hunters dancing about with frantic gesticulations,
and hurling stick, spear, and arrow at their burned out victims.
Kites hover over the smoke, ready to pounce on the mantis and locusts
as they spring from the fire. Small crows and hundreds of swallows
are on eager wing, darting into the smoke and out again, seizing
fugitive flies. Scores of insects, in their haste to escape from the
fire, jump into the river, and the active fish enjoy a rare feast.
We returned to the "Pioneer" on the 9th of October, having been away
one month. The ship's company had used distilled water, a condenser
having been sent out from England; and there had not been a single
case of sickness on board since we left, though there were so many
cases of fever the few days she lay in the same spot last year. Our
boat party drank the water of the river, and the three white sailors,
who had never been in an African river before, had some slight
attacks of fever.
CHAPTER XII.
Return to the Zambesi--Bishop Mackenzie's grave--Frightful scenes
with crocodiles--Death of Mr. Thornton--African poisons--Recall of
the Expedition.
We put to sea on the 18th of October, and, again touching at Johanna,
obtained a crew of Johanna men and some oxen, and sailed for the
Zambesi; but our fuel failing before we reached it, and the wind
being contrary, we ran into Quillimane for wood.
Quillimane must have been built solely for the sake of carrying on
the slave-trade, for no man in his senses would ever have dreamed of
placing a village on such a low, muddy, fever-haunted, and mosquito-
swarming site, had it not been for the facilities it afforded for
slaving. The bar may at springs and floods be easily crossed by
sailing-vessels, but, being far from the land, it is always dangerous
for boats. Slaves, under the name of "free emigrants," have gone by
thousands from Quillimane, during the last six years, to the ports a
little to the south, particularly to Massangano. Some excellent
brick-houses still stand in the place, and the owners are generous
and hospitable: among them our good friend, Colonel Nunez. His
disinterested kindness to us and to all our countrymen can never be
forgotten. He is a noble example of what energy and uprightness may
accomplish even here. He came out as a cabin-boy, and, without a
single friend to help him, he has persevered in an honourable course
until he is the richest man on the East Coast. When Dr. Livingstone
came down the Zambesi in 1856, Colonel Nunez was the chief of the
only four honourable, trustworthy men in the country. But while he
has risen a whole herd has sunk, making loud lamentations, through
puffs of cigar-smoke, over negro laziness; they might add, their own.
All agricultural enterprise is virtually discouraged by Quillimane
Government. A man must purchase a permit from the Governor, when he
wishes to visit his country farm; and this tax, in a country where
labour is unpopular, causes the farms to be almost entirely left in
the hands of a head slave, who makes returns to his master as
interest or honesty prompts him. A passport must also be bought
whenever a man wishes to go up the river to Mazaro, Senna, or Tette,
or even to reside for a month at Quillimane. With a soil and a
climate well suited for the growth of the cane, abundance of slave
labour, and water communication to any market in the world, they have
never made their own sugar. All they use is imported from Bombay.
"The people of Quillimane have no enterprise," said a young European
Portuguese, "they do nothing, and are always wasting their time in
suffering, or in recovering from fever."
We entered the Zambesi about the end of November and found it
unusually low, so we did not get up to Shupanga till the 19th of
December. The friends of our Mazaro men, who had now become good
sailors and very attentive servants, turned out and gave them a
hearty welcome back from the perils of the sea: they had begun to
fear that they would never return. We hired them at a sixteen-yard
piece of cloth a month--about ten shillings' worth, the Portuguese
market-price of the cloth being then sevenpence halfpenny a yard,--
and paid them five pieces each, for four-and-a-half months' work. A
merchant at the same time paid other Mazaro men three pieces for
seven months, and they were with him in the interior. If the
merchants do not prosper, it is not because labour is dear, but
because it is scarce, and because they are so eager on every occasion
to sell the workmen out of the country. Our men had also received
quantities of good clothes from the sailors of the "Pioneer" and of
the "Orestes," and were now regarded by their neighbours and by
themselves as men of importance. Never before had they possessed so
much wealth: they believed that they might settle in life, being now
of sufficient standing to warrant their entering the married state;
and a wife and a hut were among their first investments. Sixteen
yards were paid to the wife's parents, and a hut cost four yards. We
should have liked to have kept them in the ship, for they were well-
behaved and had learned a great deal of the work required. Though
they would not themselves go again, they engaged others for us; and
brought twice as many as we could take, of their brothers and
cousins, who were eager to join the ship and go with us up the Shire,
or anywhere else. They all agreed to take half-pay until they too
had learned to work; and we found no scarcity of labour, though all
that could be exported is now out of the country.
There had been a drought of unusual severity during the past season
in the country between Lupata and Kebrabasa, and it had extended
north-east to the Manganja highlands. All the Tette slaves, except a
very few household ones, had been driven away by hunger, and were now
far off in the woods, and wherever wild fruit, or the prospect of
obtaining anything whatever to keep the breath of life in them, was
to be found. Their masters were said never to expect to see them
again. There have been two years of great hunger at Tette since we
have been in the country, and a famine like the present prevailed in
1854, when thousands died of starvation. If men like the Cape
farmers owned this country, their energy and enterprise would soon
render the crops independent of rain. There being plenty of slope or
fall, the land could be easily irrigated from the Zambesi and its
tributary streams. A Portuguese colony can never prosper: it is
used as a penal settlement, and everything must be done military
fashion. "What do I care for this country?" said the most
enterprising of the Tette merchants, "all I want is to make money as
soon possible, and then go to Bombay and enjoy it." All business at
Tette was now suspended. Carriers could not be found to take the
goods into the interior, and the merchants could barely obtain food
for their own families. At Mazaro more rain had fallen, and a
tolerable crop followed. The people of Shupanga were collecting and
drying different wild fruits, nearly all of which are far from
palatable to a European taste. The root of a small creeper called
"bise" is dug up and eaten. In appearance it is not unlike the small
white sweet potato, and has a little of the flavour of our potato.
It would be very good, if it were only a little larger. From another
tuber, called "ulanga," very good starch can be made. A few miles
from Shupanga there is an abundance of large game, but the people
here, though fond enough of meat, are not a hunting race, and seldom
kill any.
The Shire having risen, we steamed off on the 10th of January, 1863,
with the "Lady Nyassa" in tow. It was not long before we came upon
the ravages of the notorious Mariano. The survivors of a small
hamlet, at the foot of Morambala, were in a state of starvation,
having lost their food by one of his marauding parties. The women
were in the fields collecting insects, roots, wild fruits, and
whatever could be eaten, in order to drag on their lives, if
possible, till the next crop should be ripe. Two canoes passed us,
that had been robbed by Mariano's band of everything they had in
them; the owners were gathering palm-nuts for their subsistence.
They wore palm-leaf aprons, as the robbers had stripped them of their
clothing and ornaments. Dead bodies floated past us daily, and in
the mornings the paddles had to be cleared of corpses, caught by the
floats during the night. For scores of miles the entire population
of the valley was swept away by this scourge Mariano, who is again,
as he was before, the great Portuguese slave-agent. It made the
heart ache to see the widespread desolation; the river-banks, once so
populous, all silent; the villages burned down, and an oppressive
stillness reigning where formerly crowds of eager sellers appeared
with the various products of their industry. Here and there might be
seen on the bank a small dreary deserted shed, where had sat, day
after day, a starving fisherman, until the rising waters drove the
fish from their wonted haunts, and left him to die. Tingane had been
defeated; his people had been killed, kidnapped, and forced to flee
from their villages. There were a few wretched survivors in a
village above the Ruo; but the majority of the population was dead.
The sight and smell of dead bodies was everywhere. Many skeletons
lay beside the path, where in their weakness they had fallen and
expired. Ghastly living forms of boys and girls, with dull dead
eyes, were crouching beside some of the huts. A few more miserable
days of their terrible hunger, and they would be with the dead.
Oppressed with the shocking scenes around, we visited the Bishop's
grave; and though it matters little where a good Christian's ashes
rest, yet it was with sadness that we thought over the hopes which
had clustered around him, as he left the classic grounds of
Cambridge, all now buried in this wild place. How it would have torn
his kindly heart to witness the sights we now were forced to see!
In giving vent to the natural feelings of regret, that a man so
eminently endowed and learned, as was Bishop Mackenzie, should have
been so soon cut off, some have expressed an opinion that it was
wrong to use an instrument so valuable MERELY to convert the heathen.
If the attempt is to be made at all, it is "penny wise and pound
foolish" to employ any but the very best men, and those who are
specially educated for the work. An ordinary clergyman, however well
suited for a parish, will not, without special training, make a
Missionary; and as to their comparative usefulness, it is like that
of the man who builds an hospital, as compared with that of the
surgeon who in after years only administers for a time the remedies
which the founder had provided in perpetuity. Had the Bishop
succeeded in introducing Christianity, his converts might have been
few, but they would have formed a continuous roll for all time to
come.
The Shire fell two feet, before we reached the shallow crossing where
we had formerly such difficulty, and we had now two ships to take up.
A hippopotamus was shot two miles above a bank on which the ship lay
a fortnight: it floated in three hours. As the boat was towing it
down, the crocodiles were attracted by the dead beast, and several
shots had to be fired to keep them off. The bullet had not entered
the brain of the animal, but driven a splinter of bone into it. A
little moisture with some gas issued from the wound, and this was all
that could tell the crocodiles down the stream of a dead
hippopotamus; and yet they came up from miles below. Their sense of
smell must be as acute as their hearing; both are quite
extraordinary. Dozens fed on the meat we left. Our Krooman, Jumbo,
used to assert that the crocodile never eats fresh meat, but always
keeps it till it is high and tender--and the stronger it smells the
better he likes it. There seems to be some truth in this. They can
swallow but small pieces at a time, and find it difficult to tear
fresh meat. In the act of swallowing, which is like that of a dog,
the head is raised out of the water. We tried to catch some, and one
was soon hooked; it required half-a-dozen hands to haul him up the
river, and the shark-hook straightened, and he got away. A large
iron hook was next made, but, as the creatures could not swallow it,
their jaws soon pressed it straight--and our crocodile-fishing was a
failure. As one might expect,--from the power even of a salmon--the
tug of a crocodile was terribly strong.
The corpse of a boy floated past the ship; a monstrous crocodile
rushed at it with the speed of a greyhound, caught it and shook it,
as a terrier dog does a rat. Others dashed at the prey, each with
his powerful tail causing the water to churn and froth, as he
furiously tore off a piece. In a few seconds it was all gone. The
sight was frightful to behold. The Shire swarmed with crocodiles; we
counted sixty-seven of these repulsive reptiles on a single bank, but
they are not as fierce as they are in some rivers. "Crocodiles,"
says Captain Tuckey, "are so plentiful in the Congo, near the rapids,
and so frequently carry off the women, who at daylight go down to the
river for water, that, while they are filling their calabashes, one
of the party is usually employed in throwing large stones into the
water outside." Here, either a calabash on a long pole is used in
drawing water, or a fence is planted. The natives eat the crocodile,
but to us the idea of tasting the musky-scented, fishy-looking flesh
carried the idea of cannibalism. Humboldt remarks, that in South
America the alligators of some rivers are more dangerous than in
others. Alligators differ from crocodiles in the fourth or canine
tooth going into a hole or socket in the upper jaw, while in the
crocodile it fits into a notch. The forefoot of the crocodile has
five toes not webbed, the hindfoot has four toes which are webbed; in
the alligator the web is altogether wanting. They are so much alike
that they would no doubt breed together.
One of the crocodiles which was shot had a piece snapped off the end
of his tail, another had lost a forefoot in fighting; we saw actual
leeches between the teeth, such as are mentioned by Herodotus, but we
never witnessed the plover picking them out. Their greater
fierceness in one part of the country than another is doubtless owing
to a scarcity of fish; in fact, Captain Tuckey says, of that part of
the Congo, mentioned above, "There are no fish here but catfish," and
we found that the lake crocodiles, living in clear water, and with
plenty of fish, scarcely ever attacked man. The Shire teems with
fish of many different kinds. The only time, as already remarked,
when its crocodiles are particularly to be dreaded, is when the river
is in flood. Then the fish are driven from their usual haunts, and
no game comes down to the river to drink, water being abundant in
pools inland. Hunger now impels the crocodile to lie in wait for the
women who come to draw water, and on the Zambesi numbers are carried
off every year. The danger is not so great at other seasons; though
it is never safe to bathe, or to stoop to drink, where one cannot see
the bottom, especially in the evening. One of the Makololo ran down
in the dusk of the river; and, as he was busy tossing the water to
his mouth with his hand, in the manner peculiar to the natives, a
crocodile rose suddenly from the bottom, and caught him by the hand.
The limb of a tree was fortunately within reach, and he had presence
of mind to lay hold of it. Both tugged and pulled; the crocodile for
his dinner, and the man for dear life. For a time it appeared
doubtful whether a dinner or a life was to be sacrificed; but the man
held on, and the monster let the hand go, leaving the deep marks of
his ugly teeth in it.
During our detention, in expectation of the permanent rise of the
river in March, Dr. Kirk and Mr. C. Livingstone collected numbers of
the wading-birds of the marshes--and made pleasant additions to our
salted provisions, in geese, ducks, and hippopotamus flesh. One of
the comb or knob-nosed geese, on being strangled in order to have its
skin preserved without injury, continued to breathe audibly by the
broken humerus, or wing-bone, and other means had to be adopted to
put it out of pain. This was as if a man on the gallows were to
continue to breathe by a broken armbone, and afforded us an
illustration of the fact, that in birds, the vital air penetrates
every part of the interior of their bodies. The breath passes
through and round about the lungs--bathes the surfaces of the
viscera, and enters the cavities of the bones; it even penetrates
into some spaces between the muscles of the neck--and thus not only
is the most perfect oxygenation of the blood secured, but, the
temperature of the blood being very high, the air in every part is
rarefied, and the great lightness and vigour provided for, that the
habits of birds require. Several birds were found by Dr. Kirk to
have marrow in the tibiae, though these bones are generally described
as hollow.
During the period of our detention on the shallow part of the river
in March, Mr. Thornton came up to us from Shupanga: he had, as
before narrated, left the Expedition in 1859, and joined Baron van
der Decken, in the journey to Kilimanjaro, when, by an ascent of the
mountain to the height of 8000 feet, it was first proved to be
covered with perpetual snow, and the previous information respecting
it, given by the Church of England Missionaries, Krapf and Rebman,
confirmed. It is now well known that the Baron subsequently ascended
the Kilimanjaro to 14,000 feet, and ascertained its highest peak to
be at least 20,000 feet above the sea. Mr. Thornton made the map of
the first journey, at Shupanga, from materials collected when with
the Baron; and when that work was accomplished, followed us. He was
then directed to examine geologically the Cataract district, but not
to expose himself to contact with the Ajawa until the feelings of
that tribe should be ascertained.
The members of Bishop Mackenzie's party, on the loss of their head,
fell back from Magomero on the highlands, to Chibisa's, in the low-
lying Shire Valley; and Thornton, finding them suffering from want of
animal food, kindly volunteered to go across thence to Tette, and
bring a supply of goats and sheep. We were not aware of this step,
to which the generosity of his nature prompted him, till two days
after he had started. In addition to securing supplies for the
Universities' Mission, he brought some for the Expedition, and took
bearings, by which he hoped to connect his former work at Tette with
the mountains in the Shire district. The toil of this journey was
too much for his strength, as with the addition of great scarcity of
water, it had been for that of Dr. Kirk and Rae, and he returned in a
sadly haggard and exhausted condition; diarrhoea supervened, and that
ended in dysentery and fever, which terminated fatally on the 21st of
April, 1863. He received the unremitting attentions of Dr. Kirk, and
Dr. Meller, surgeon of the "Pioneer," during the fortnight of his
illness; and as he had suffered very little from fever, or any other
disease, in Africa, we had entertained strong hopes that his youth
and unimpaired constitution would have carried him through. During
the night of the 20th his mind wandered so much, that we could not
ascertain his last wishes; and on the morning of the 21st, to our
great sorrow, he died. He was buried on the 22nd, near a large tree
on the right bank of the Shire, about five hundred yards from the
lowest of the Murchison Cataracts--and close to a rivulet, at which
the "Lady Nyassa" and "Pioneer" lay.
No words can convey an adequate idea of the scene of widespread
desolation which the once pleasant Shire Valley now presented.
Instead of smiling villages and crowds of people coming with things
for sale, scarcely a soul was to be seen; and, when by chance one
lighted on a native, his frame bore the impress of hunger, and his
countenance the look of a cringing broken-spiritedness. A drought
had visited the land after the slave-hunting panic swept over it.
Had it been possible to conceive the thorough depopulation which had
ensued, we should have avoided coming up the river. Large masses of
the people had fled down to the Shire, only anxious to get the river
between them and their enemies. Most of the food had been left
behind; and famine and starvation had cut off so many, that the
remainder were too few to bury the dead. The corpses we saw floating
down the river were only a remnant of those that had perished, whom
their friends, from weakness, could not bury, nor over-gorged
crocodiles devour. It is true that famine caused a great portion of
this waste of human life: but the slave-trade must be deemed the
chief agent in the ruin, because, as we were informed, in former
droughts all the people flocked from the hills down to the marshes,
which are capable of yielding crops of maize in less than three
months, at any time of the year, and now they were afraid to do so.
A few, encouraged by the Mission in the attempt to cultivate, had
their little patches robbed as successive swarms of fugitives came
from the hills. Who can blame these outcasts from house and home for
stealing to save their wretched lives, or wonder that the owners
protected the little all, on which their own lives depended, with
club and spear? We were informed by Mr. Waller of the dreadful
blight which had befallen the once smiling Shire Valley. His words,
though strong, failed to impress us with the reality. In fact, they
were received, as some may accept our own, as tinged with
exaggeration; but when our eyes beheld the last mere driblets of this
cup of woe, we for the first time felt that the enormous wrongs
inflicted on our fellow-men by slaving are beyond exaggeration.
Wherever we took a walk, human skeletons were seen in every
direction, and it was painfully interesting to observe the different
postures in which the poor wretches had breathed their last. A whole
heap had been thrown down a slope behind a village, where the
fugitives often crossed the river from the east; and in one hut of
the same village no fewer than twenty drums had been collected,
probably the ferryman's fees. Many had ended their misery under
shady trees--others under projecting crags in the hills--while others
lay in their huts, with closed doors, which when opened disclosed the
mouldering corpse with the poor rags round the loins--the skull
fallen off the pillow--the little skeleton of the child, that had
perished first, rolled up in a mat between two large skeletons. The
sight of this desert, but eighteen months ago a well peopled valley,
now literally strewn with human bones, forced the conviction upon us,
that the destruction of human life in the middle passage, however
great, constitutes but a small portion of the waste, and made us feel
that unless the slave-trade--that monster iniquity, which has so long
brooded over Africa--is put down, lawful commerce cannot be
established.
We believed that, if it were possible to get a steamer upon the Lake,
we could by her means put a check on the slavers from the East Coast;
and aid more effectually still in the suppression of the slave-trade,
by introducing, by way of the Rovuma, a lawful traffic in ivory. We
therefore unscrewed the "Lady Nyassa" at a rivulet about five hundred
yards below the first cataract, and began to make a road over the
thirty-five or forty miles of land portage, by which to carry her up
piecemeal. After mature consideration, we could not imagine a more
noble work of benevolence, than thus to introduce light and liberty
into a quarter of this fair earth, which human lust has converted
into the nearest possible resemblance of what we conceive the
infernal regions to be--and we sacrificed much of our private
resources as an offering for the promotion of so good a cause.
The chief part of the labour of road-making consisted in cutting down
trees and removing stones. The country being covered with open
forest, a small tree had to be cut about every fifty or sixty yards.
The land near the river was so very much intersected by ravines, that
search had to be made, a mile from its banks, for more level ground.
Experienced Hottentot drivers would have taken Cape wagons without
any other trouble than that of occasionally cutting down a tree. No
tsetse infested this district, and the cattle brought from Johanna
flourished on the abundant pasture. The first half-mile of road led
up, by a gradual slope, to an altitude of two hundred feet above the
ship, and a sensible difference of climate was felt even there. For
the remainder of the distance the height increased,--till, at the
uppermost cataract, we were more than 1200 feet above the sea. The
country here, having recovered from the effects of the drought, was
bright with young green woodland, and mountains of the same
refreshing hue. But the absence of the crowds, which had attended us
as we carried up the boat, when the women followed us for miles with
fine meal, vegetables, and fat fowls for sale, and the boys were ever
ready for a little job--and the oppressive stillness bore heavily on
our spirits. The Portuguese of Tette had very effectually removed
our labourers. Not an ounce of fresh provisions could be obtained,
except what could be shot, and even the food for our native crew had
to be brought one hundred and fifty miles from the Zambesi.
The diet of salt provisions and preserved meats without vegetables,
with the depression of spirits caused by seeing how effectually a few
wretched convicts, aided by the connivance of officials, of whom
better might have been hoped, could counteract our best efforts, and
turn intended good to certain evil, brought on attacks of dysentery,
which went the round of the Expedition--and, Dr. Kirk and Charles
Livingstone having suffered most severely, it was deemed advisable
that they should go home. This measure was necessary, though much to
the regret of all--for having done so much, they were naturally
anxious to be present, when, by the establishing ourselves on the
Lake, all our efforts should be crowned with success. After it had
been decided that these two officers, and all the whites who could be
spared, should be sent down to the sea for a passage to England, Dr.
Livingstone was seized in May with a severe attack of dysentery,
which continued for a month, and reduced him to a shadow. Dr. Kirk
kindly remained in attendance till the worst was passed. The parting
took place on the 19th of May.
After a few miles of road were completed, and the oxen broken in, we
resolved to try and render ourselves independent of the south for
fresh provisions, by going in a boat up the Shire, above the
Cataracts, to the tribes at the foot of Lake Nyassa, who were still
untouched by the Ajawa invasion. In furtherance of this plan Dr.
Livingstone and Mr. Rae determined to walk up to examine, and, if
need be, mend the boat which had been left two seasons previously
hung up to the limb of a large shady tree, before attempting to carry
another past the Cataracts. The "Pioneer," which was to be left in
charge of our active and most trustworthy gunner, Mr. Edward D.
Young, R.N., was thoroughly roofed over with euphorbia branches and
grass, so as completely to protect her decks from the sun: she also
received daily a due amount of man-of-war scrubbing and washing; and,
besides having everything put in shipshape fashion, was every evening
swung out into the middle of the river, for the sake of the greater
amount of air which circulated there. In addition to their daily
routine work of the ship, the three stokers, one sailor, and one
carpenter--now our complement--were encouraged to hunt for guinea-
fowl, which in June, when the water inland is dried up, come in large
flocks to the river's banks, and roost on the trees at night.
Everything that can be done to keep mind and body employed tends to
prevent fever.
While we were employed in these operations, some of the poor starved
people about had been in the habit of crossing the river, and reaping
the self-sown mapira, in the old gardens of their countrymen. In the
afternoon of the 9th, a canoe came floating down empty, and shortly
after a woman was seen swimming near the other side, which was about
two hundred yards distant from us. Our native crew manned the boat,
and rescued her; when brought on board, she was found to have an
arrow-head, eight or ten inches long, in her back, below the ribs,
and slanting up through the diaphragm and left lung, towards the
heart--she had been shot from behind when stooping. Air was coming
out of the wound, and, there being but an inch of the barbed arrow-
head visible, it was thought better not to run the risk of her dying
under the operation necessary for its removal; so we carried her up
to her own hut. One of her relatives was less scrupulous, for he cut
out the arrow and part of the lung. Mr. Young sent her occasionally
portions of native corn, and strange to say found that she not only
became well, but stout. The constitution of these people seems to
have a wonderful power of self-repair--and it could be no slight
privation which had cut off the many thousands that we saw dead
around us.
We regretted that, in consequence of Dr. Meller having now sole
medical charge, we could not have his company in our projected trip;
but he found employment in botany and natural history, after the
annual sickly season of March, April, and May was over; and his
constant presence was not so much required at the ship. Later in the
year, when he could be well spared, he went down the river to take up
an appointment he had been offered in Madagascar; but unfortunately
was so severely tried by illness while detained at the coast, that
for nearly two years he was not able to turn his abilities as a
naturalist to account by proceeding to that island. We have no doubt
but he will yet distinguish himself in that untrodden field.
On the 16th of June we started for the Upper Cataracts, with a mule-
cart, our road lying a distance of a mile west from the river. We
saw many of the deserted dwellings of the people who formerly came to
us; and were very much struck by the extent of land under
cultivation, though that, compared with the whole country, is very
small. Large patches of mapira continued to grow,--as it is said it
does from the roots for three years. The mapira was mixed with tall
bushes of the Congo-bean, castor-oil plants, and cotton. The largest
patch of this kind we paced, and found it to be six hundred and
thirty paces on one side--the rest were from one acre to three, and
many not more than one-third of an acre. The cotton--of very
superior quality--was now dropping off the bushes, to be left to rot-
-there was no one to gather what would have been of so much value in
Lancashire. The huts, in the different villages we entered, were
standing quite perfect. The mortars for pounding corn--the stones
for grinding it--the water and beer pots--the empty corn-safes and
kitchen utensils, were all untouched; and most of the doors were
shut, as if the starving owners had gone out to wander in search of
roots or fruits in the forest, and had never returned. When opened,
several huts revealed a ghastly sight of human skeletons. Some were
seen in such unnatural positions, as to give the idea that they had
expired in a faint, when trying to reach something to allay the
gnawings of hunger.
We took several of the men as far as the Mukuru-Madse for the sake of
the change of air and for occupation, and also to secure for the
ships a supply of buffalo meat--as those animals were reported to be
in abundance on that stream. But though it was evident from the
tracks that the report was true, it was impossible to get a glimpse
of them. The grass being taller than we were, and pretty thickly
planted, they always knew of our approach before we saw them. And
the first intimation we had of their being near was the sound they
made in rushing over the stones, breaking the branches, and knocking
their horns against each other. Once, when seeking a ford for the
cart, at sunrise, we saw a herd slowly wending up the hill-side from
the water. Sending for a rifle, and stalking with intense eagerness
for a fat beefsteak, instead of our usual fare of salted provisions,
we got so near that we could hear the bulls uttering their hoarse
deep low, but could see nothing except the mass of yellow grass in
front; suddenly the buffalo-birds sounded their alarm-whistle, and
away dashed the troop, and we got sight of neither birds nor beasts.
This would be no country for a sportsman except when the grass is
short. The animals are wary, from the dread they have of the
poisoned arrows. Those of the natives who do hunt are deeply imbued
with the hunting spirit, and follow the game with a stealthy
perseverance and cunning, quite extraordinary. The arrow making no
noise, the herd is followed up until the poison takes effect, and the
wounded animal falls out. It is then patiently watched till it
drops--a portion of meat round the wound is cut away, and all the
rest eaten.
Poisoned arrows are made in two pieces. An iron barb is firmly
fastened to one end of a small wand of wood, ten inches or a foot
long, the other end of which, fined down to a long point, is nicely
fitted, though not otherwise secured, in the hollow of the reed,
which forms the arrow shaft. The wood immediately below the iron
head is smeared with the poison. When the arrow is shot into an
animal, the reed either falls to the ground at once, or is very soon
brushed off by the bushes; but the iron barb and poisoned upper part
of the wood remain in the wound. If made in one piece, the arrow
would often be torn out, head and all, by the long shaft catching in
the underwood, or striking against trees. The poison used here, and
called kombi, is obtained from a species of strophanthus, and is very
virulent. Dr. Kirk found by an accidental experiment on himself that
it acts by lowering the pulse. In using his tooth-brush, which had
been in a pocket containing a little of the poison, he noticed a
bitter taste, but attributed it to his having sometimes used, the
handle in taking quinine. Though the quantity was small, it
immediately showed its power by lowering his pulse which at the time
had been raised by a cold, and next day he was perfectly restored.
Not much can be inferred from a single case of this kind, but it is
possible that the kombi may turn out a valuable remedy; and as
Professor Sharpey has conducted a series of experiments with this
substance, we look with interest for the results. An alkaloid has
been obtained from it similar to strychnine. There is no doubt that
all kinds of wild animals die from the effects of poisoned arrows,
except the elephant and hippopotamus. The amount of poison that this
little weapon can convey into their systems being too small to kill
those huge beasts, the hunters resort to the beam trap instead.
Another kind of poison was met with on Lake Nyassa, which was said to
be used exclusively for killing men. It was put on small wooden
arrow-heads, and carefully protected by a piece of maize-leaf tied
round it. It caused numbness of the tongue when the smallest
particle was tasted. The Bushmen of the northern part of the
Kalahari were seen applying the entrails of a small caterpillar which
they termed 'Nga to their arrows. This venom was declared to be so
powerful in producing delirium, that a man in dying returned in
imagination to a state of infancy, and would call for his mother's
breast. Lions when shot with it are said to perish in agonies. The
poisonous ingredient in this case may be derived from the plant on
which the caterpillar feeds. It is difficult to conceive by what
sort of experiments the properties of these poisons, known for
generations, were proved. Probably the animal instincts, which have
become so obtuse by civilization, that children in England eat the
berries of the deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) without
suspicion, were in the early uncivilized state much more keen. In
some points instinct is still retained among savages. It is related
that in the celebrated voyage of the French navigator, Bougainville,
a young lady, who had assumed the male attire, performed all the hard
duties incident to the calling of a common sailor; and, even as
servant to the geologist, carried a bag of stones and specimens over
hills and dales without a complaint, and without having her sex
suspected by her associates; but on landing among the savages of one
of the South Sea Islands, she was instantly recognized as a female.
They began to show their impressions in a way that compelled her to
confess her sex, and throw herself on the protection of the
commander, which of course was granted. In like manner, the earlier
portions of the human family may have had their instincts as to
plants more highly developed than any of their descendants--if indeed
much more knowledge than we usually suppose be not the effect of
direct revelation from above.
The Mukuru-Madse has a deep rocky bed. The water is generally about
four feet deep, and fifteen or twenty yards broad. Before reaching
it, we passed five or six gullies; but beyond it the country, for two
or three miles from the river, was comparatively smooth. The long
grass was overrunning all the native paths, and one species (sanu),
which has a sharp barbed seed a quarter of an inch in length, enters
every pore of woollen clothing and highly irritates the skin. From
its hard, sharp point a series of minute barbs are laid back, and
give the seed a hold wherever it enters: the slightest touch gives
it an entering motion, and the little hooks prevent its working out.
These seeds are so abundant in some spots, that the inside of the
stocking becomes worse than the roughest hair shirt. It is, however,
an excellent self-sower, and fine fodder; it rises to the height of
common meadow-grass in England, and would be a capital plant for
spreading over a new country not so abundantly supplied with grasses
as this is.
We have sometimes noticed two or three leaves together pierced
through by these seeds, and thus made, as it were, into wings to
carry them to any soil suited to their growth.
We always follow the native paths, though they are generally not more
than fifteen inches broad, and so often have deep little holes in
them, made for the purpose of setting traps for small animals, and
are so much obscured by the long grass, that one has to keep one's
eyes on the ground more than is pleasant. In spite, however, of all
drawbacks, it is vastly more easy to travel on these tracks than to
go straight over uncultivated ground, or virgin forest. A path
usually leads to some village, though sometimes it turns out to be a
mere game track leading nowhere.
In going north, we came into a part called Mpemba where Chibisa was
owned as chief, but the people did not know that he had been
assassinated by the Portuguese Terera. A great deal of grain was
lying round the hut, where we spent the night. Very large numbers of
turtledoves feasted undisturbed on the tall stalked mapira ears, and
we easily secured plenty of fine fat guinea-fowls--now allowed to
feed leisurely in the deserted gardens. The reason assigned for all
this listless improvidence was "There are no women to grind the corn-
-all are dead."
The cotton patches in all cases seemed to have been so well cared
for, and kept so free of weeds formerly, that, though now untended,
but few weeds had sprung up; and the bushes were thus preserved in
the annual grass burnings. Many baobab-trees grow in different
spots, and the few people seen were using the white pulp found
between the seeds to make a pleasant subacid drink.
On passing Malango, near the uppermost cataract, not a soul was to be
seen; but, as we rested opposite a beautiful tree-covered island, the
merry voices of children at play fell on our ears--the parents had
fled thither for protection from the slave-hunting Ajawa, still urged
on by the occasional visits of the Portuguese agents from Tette. The
Ajawa, instead of passing below the Cataracts, now avoided us, and
crossed over to the east side near to the tree on which we had hung
the boat. Those of the Manganja, to whom we could make ourselves
known, readily came to us; but the majority had lost all confidence
in themselves, in each other, and in every one else. The boat had
been burned about three months previously, and the Manganja were very
anxious that we should believe that this had been the act of the
Ajawa; but on scanning the spot we saw that it was more likely to
have caught fire in the grass-burning of the country. Had we
intended to be so long in returning to it, we should have hoisted it
bottom upwards; for, as it was, it is probable that a quantity of
dried leaves lay inside, and a spark ignited the whole. All the
trees within fifty yards were scorched and killed, and the nails,
iron, and copper sheathing, all lay undisturbed beneath. Had the
Ajawa done the deed, they would have taken away the copper and iron.
Our hopes of rendering ourselves independent of the south for
provisions, by means of this boat, being thus disappointed, we turned
back with the intention of carrying another up to the same spot; and,
in order to find level ground for this, we passed across from the
Shire at Malango to the upper part of the stream Lesungwe. A fine,
active, intelligent fellow, called Pekila, guided us, and was
remarkable as almost the only one of the population left with any
spirit in him. The depressing effect which the slave-hunting scourge
has upon the native mind, though little to be wondered at, is sad,
very sad to witness. Musical instruments, mats, pillows, mortars for
pounding meal, were lying about unused, and becoming the prey of the
white ants. With all their little comforts destroyed, the survivors
were thrown still further back into barbarism.
It is of little importance perhaps to any but travellers to notice
that in occupying one night a well-built hut, which had been shut up
for some time, the air inside at once gave us a chill, and an attack
of fever; both of which vanished when the place was well-ventilated
by means of a fire. We have frequently observed that lighting a fire
early in the mornings, even in the hottest time of the year, gives
freshness to the whole house, and removes that feeling of closeness
and langour, which a hot climate induces.
On the night of the 1st July, 1863, several loud peals of thunder
awoke us; the moon was shining brightly, and not a cloud to be seen.
All the natives remarked on the clearness of the sky at the time, and
next morning said, "We thought it was God" (Morungo).
On arriving at the ship on the 2nd July, we found a despatch from
Earl Russell, containing instructions for the withdrawal of the
Expedition. The devastation caused by slave-hunting and famine lay
all around. The labour had been as completely swept away from the
Great Shire Valley, as it had been from the Zambesi, wherever
Portuguese intrigue or power extended. The continual forays of
Mariano had spread ruin and desolation on our south-east as far as
Mount Clarendon.
While this was going on in our rear, the Tette slave-hunters from the
West had stimulated the Ajawa to sweep all the Manganja off the hills
on our East; and slaving parties for this purpose were still passing
the Shire above the Cataracts. In addition to the confession of the
Governor of Tette, of an intention to go on with this slaving in
accordance with the counsel of his elder brother at Mosambique, we
had reason to believe that slavery went on under the eye of his
Excellency, the Governor-General himself; and this was subsequently
corroborated by our recognizing two women at Mosambique who had lived
within a hundred yards of the Mission-station at Magomero. They were
well known to our attendants, and had formed a part of a gang of
several hundreds taken to Mosambique by the Ajawa at the very time
when his Excellency was entertaining English officers with anti-
slavery palavers. To any one who understands how minute the
information is, which Portuguese governors possess by means of their
own slaves, and through gossiping traders who seek to curry their
favour, it is idle to assert that all this slaving goes on without
their approval and connivance.
If more had been wanted to prove the hopelessness of producing any
change in the system which has prevailed ever since our allies, the
Portuguese, entered the country, we had it in the impunity with which
the freebooter, Terera, who had murdered Chibisa, was allowed to
carry on his forays. Belchoir, another marauder, had been checked,
but was still allowed to make war, as they term slave-hunting.
Mr. Horace Waller was living for some five months on Mount Morambala,
a position from which the whole process of the slave-trade, and
depopulation of the country around could be well noted. The mountain
overlooks the Shire, the beautiful meanderings of which are
distinctly seen, on clear days, for thirty miles. This river was for
some time supposed to be closed against Mariano, who, as a mere
matter of form, was declared a rebel against the Portuguese flag.
When, however, it became no longer possible to keep up the sham, the
river was thrown open to him; and Mr. Waller has seen in a single day
from fifteen to twenty canoes of different sizes going down, laden
with slaves, to the Portuguese settlements from the so-called rebel
camp. These cargoes were composed entirely of women and children.
For three months this traffic was incessant, and at last, so
completely was the mask thrown off, that one of the officials came to
pay a visit to Bishop Tozer on another part of the same mountain,
and, combining business with pleasure, collected payment for some
canoe work done for the Missionary party, and with this purchased
slaves from the rebels, who had only to be hailed from the bank of
the river. When he had concluded the bargain he trotted the slaves
out for inspection in Mr. Waller's presence. This official, Senhor
Mesquita, was the only officer who could be forced to live at the
Kongone. From certain circumstances in his life, he had fallen under
the power of the local Government; all the other Custom-house
officers refused to go to Kongone, so here poor Mesquita must live on
a miserable pittance--must live, and perhaps slave, sorely against
his will. His name is not brought forward with a view of throwing
any odium on his character. The disinterested kindness which he
showed to Dr. Meller, and others, forbids that he should be mentioned
by us with anything like unkindness.
Under all these considerations, with the fact that we had not found
the Rovuma so favourable for navigation at the time of our visit as
we expected, it was impossible not to coincide in the wisdom of our
withdrawal; but we deeply regretted that we had ever given credit to
the Portuguese Government for any desire to ameliorate the condition
of the African race; for, with half the labour and expense anywhere
else, we should have made an indelible mark of improvement on a
section of the Continent. Viewing Portuguese statesmen in the light
of the laws they have passed for the suppression of slavery and the
slave-trade, and by the standard of the high character of our own
public men, it cannot be considered weakness to have believed in the
sincerity of the anxiety to aid our enterprise, professed by the
Lisbon Ministry. We hoped to benefit both Portuguese and Africans by
introducing free-trade and Christianity. Our allies, unfortunately,
cannot see the slightest benefit in any measure that does not imply
raising themselves up by thrusting others down. The official paper
of the Lisbon Government has since let us know "that their policy was
directed to frustrating the grasping designs of the British
Government to the dominion of Eastern Africa." We, who were on the
spot, and behind the scenes, knew that feelings of private
benevolence had the chief share in the operations undertaken for
introducing the reign of peace and good will on the Lakes and central
regions, which for ages have been the abodes of violence and
bloodshed. But that great change was not to be accomplished. The
narrow-minded would ascribe all that was attempted to the grasping
propensity of the English. But the motives that actuate many in
England, both in public and private life, are much more noble than
the world gives them credit for.
Seeing, then, that we were not yet arrived at "the good time coming,"
and that it was quite impossible to take the "Pioneer" down to the
sea till the floods of December, we made arrangements to screw the
"Lady Nyassa" together; and, in order to improve the time
intervening, we resolved to carry a boat past the Cataracts a second
time, sail along the eastern shore of the Lake, and round the
northern end, and also collect data by which to verify the
information collected by Colonel Rigby, that the 19,000 slaves, who
go through the Custom-house of Zanzibar annually, are chiefly drawn
from Lake Nyassa and the Valley of the Shire.
Our party consisted of twenty natives, some of whom were Johanna men,
and were supposed to be capable of managing the six oxen which drew
the small wagon with a boat on it. A team of twelve Cape oxen, with
a Hottentot driver and leader, would have taken the wagon over the
country we had to pass through with the greatest ease; but no sooner
did we get beyond the part of the road already made, than our drivers
encountered obstructions in the way of trees and gullies, which it
would have been a waste of time to have overcome by felling timber
and hauling out the wagon by block and tackle purchases. The Ajawa
and Manganja settled at Chibisa's were therefore sent for, and they
took the boat on their shoulders and carried it briskly, in a few
days, past all the Cataracts except one; then coming to a
comparatively still reach of the river, they took advantage of it to
haul her up a couple of miles. The Makololo had her then entirely in
charge; for, being accustomed to rapids in their own country, no
better boatmen could be desired. The river here is very narrow, and
even in what are called still places, the current is very strong, and
often obliged them to haul the boat along by the reeds on the banks,
or to hand a tow-rope ashore. The reeds are full of cowitch
(Dolichos pruriens), the pods of which are covered with what looks a
fine velvety down, but is in reality a multitude of fine prickles,
which go in by the million, and caused an itching and stinging in the
naked bodies of those who were pulling the tow-rope, that made them
wriggle as if stung by a whole bed of nettles. Those on board
required to be men of ready resource with oars and punting-poles, and
such they were. But, nevertheless, they found, after attempting to
pass by a rock, round which the water rushed in whirls, that the
wiser plan would be to take the boat ashore, and carry her past the
last Cataract. When this was reported, the carriers were called from
the various shady trees under which they had taken refuge from the
sun. This was midwinter, but the sun is always hot by day here,
though the nights are cold. Five Zambesi men, who had been all their
lives accustomed to great heavy canoes,--the chief recommendation of
which is said to be, that they can be run against a rock with the
full force of the current without injury--were very desirous to show
how much better they could manage our boat than the Makololo; three
jumped into her when our backs were turned, and two hauled her up a
little way; the tide caught her bow, we heard a shout of distress,
the rope was out of their hands in a moment, and there she was,
bottom upwards; a turn or two in an eddy, and away she went, like an
arrow, down the Cataracts. One of the men in swimming ashore saved a
rifle. The whole party ran with all their might along the bank, but
never more did we see our boat.
The five performers in this catastrophe approached with penitential
looks. They had nothing to say, nor had we. They bent down slowly,
and touched our feet with both hands. "Ku kuata moendo"--"to catch
the foot"--is their way of asking forgiveness. It was so like what
we have seen a little child do--try to bring a dish unbidden to its
papa, and letting it fall, burst into a cry of distress--that they
were only sentenced to go back to the ship, get provisions, and, in
the ensuing journey on foot, carry as much as they could, and thus
make up for the loss of the boat.
It was excessively annoying to lose all this property, and be
deprived of the means of doing the work proposed, on the east and
north of the Lake; but it would have been like crying over spilt milk
to do otherwise now than make the best use we could of our legs. The
men were sent back to the ship for provisions, cloth, and beads; and
while they are gone, we may say a little of the Cataracts which
proved so fatal to our boating plan.
CHAPTER XIII.
Dr. Livingstone's further explorations--Effects of slave-trade--
Kirk's range--Ajawa migration--Native fishermen--Arab slave-crossing-
-Splendid highlands.
The Murchison Cataracts of the Shire river begin in 15 degrees 20
minutes S., and end in lat. 15 degrees 55 minutes S., the difference
of latitude is therefore 35 minutes. The river runs in this space
nearly north and south, till we pass Malango; so the entire distance
is under 40 miles. The principal Cataracts are five in number, and
are called Pamofunda or Pamozima, Morewa, Panoreba or Tedzane,
Pampatamanga, and Papekira. Besides these, three or four smaller
ones might be mentioned; as, for instance, Mamvira, where in our
ascent we first met the broken water, and heard that gushing sound
which, from the interminable windings of some 200 miles of river
below, we had come to believe the tranquil Shire could never make.
While these lesser cataracts descend at an angle of scarcely 20
degrees, the greater fall 100 feet in 100 yards, at an angle of about
45 degrees, and one at an angle of 70 degrees. One part of Pamozima
is perpendicular, and, when the river is in flood, causes a cloud of
vapour to ascend, which, in our journey to Lake Shirwa, we saw at a
distance of at least eight miles. The entire descent from the Upper
to the Lower Shire is 1200 feet. Only on one spot in all that
distance is the current moderate--namely, above Tedzane. The rest is
all rapid, and much of it being only fifty or eighty yards wide, and
rushing like a mill-race, it gives the impression of water-power,
sufficient to drive all the mills in Manchester, running to waste.
Pamofunda, or Pamozima, has a deep shady grove on its right bank.
When we were walking alone through its dark shade, we were startled
by a shocking smell like that of a dissecting-room; and on looking up
saw dead bodies in mats suspended from the branches of the trees, a
mode of burial somewhat similar to that which we subsequently saw
practised by the Parsees in their "towers of silence" at Poonah, near
Bombay. The name Pamozima means, "the departed spirits or gods"--a
fit name for a place over which, according to the popular belief, the
disembodied souls continually hover.
The rock lowest down in the series is dark reddish-grey syenite.
This seems to have been an upheaving agent, for the mica schists
above it are much disturbed. Dark trappean rocks full of hornblende
have in many places burst through these schists, and appear in
nodules on the surface. The highest rock seen is a fine sandstone of
closer grain than that at Tette, and quite metamorphosed where it
comes into contact with the igneous rocks below it. It sometimes
gives place to quartz and reddish clay schists, much baked by heat.
This is the usual geological condition on the right bank of the
Cataracts. On the other side we pass over masses of porphyritic
trap, in contact with the same mica schists, and these probably give
to the soil the great fertility we observed. The great body of the
mountains is syenite. So much mica is washed into the river, that on
looking attentively on the stream one sees myriads of particles
floating and glancing in the sun; and this, too, even at low water.
It was the 15th of August before the men returned from the ship,
accompanied by Mr. Rae and the steward of the "Pioneer." They
brought two oxen, one of which was instantly slaughtered to put
courage into all hearts, and some bottles of wine, a present from
Waller and Alington. We never carried wine before, but this was
precious as an expression of kindheartedness on the part of the
donors. If one attempted to carry either wine or spirits, as a
beverage, he would require a whole troop of followers for nothing
else. Our greatest luxury in travelling was tea or coffee. We never
once carried sugar enough to last a journey, but coffee is always
good, while the sugarless tea is only bearable, because of the
unbearable gnawing feeling of want and sinking which ensues if we
begin to travel in the mornings without something warm in the
stomach. Our drink generally was water, and if cool, nothing can
equal it in a hot climate. We usually carried a bottle of brandy
rolled up in our blankets, but that was used only as a medicine; a
spoonful in hot water before going to bed, to fend off a chill and
fever. Spirits always do harm, if the fever has fairly begun; and it
is probable that brandy-and-water has to answer for a good many of
the deaths in Africa.
Mr. Rae had made gratifying progress in screwing together the "Lady
Nyassa." He had the zealous co-operation of three as fine steady
workmen as ever handled tools; and, as they were noble specimens of
English sailors, we would fain mention the names of men who are an
honour to the British navy--John Reid, John Pennell, and Richard
Wilson. The reader will excuse our doing so, but we desire to record
how much they were esteemed, and how thankful we felt for their good
behaviour. The weather was delightfully cool; and, with full
confidence in those left behind, it was with light hearts we turned
our faces north. Mr. Rae accompanied us a day in front; and, as all
our party had earnestly advised that at least two Europeans should be
associated together on the journey, the steward was at the last
moment taken. Mr. Rae returned to get the "Lady Nyassa" ready for
sea; and, as she drew less water than the "Pioneer," take her down to
the ocean in October. One reason for taking the steward is worth
recording. Both he and a man named King, {5} who, though only a
leading stoker in the Navy, had been a promising student in the
University of Aberdeen, had got into that weak bloodless-looking
state which residence in the lowlands without much to do or think
about often induces. The best thing for this is change and an active
life. A couple of days' march only as far as the Mukuru-Madse,
infused so much vigour into King that he was able to walk briskly
back. Consideration for the steward's health led to his being
selected for this northern journey, and the measure was so completely
successful that it was often, in the hard march, a subject of regret
that King had not been taken too. A removal of only a hundred yards
is sometimes so beneficial that it ought in severe cases never to be
omitted.
Our object now was to get away to the N.N.W., proceed parallel with
Lake Nyassa, but at a considerable distance west of it, and thus pass
by the Mazitu or Zulus near its northern end without contact--
ascertain whether any large river flowed into the Lake from the west-
-visit Lake Moelo, if time permitted, and collect information about
the trade on the great slave route, which crosses the Lake at its
southern end, and at Tsenga and Kota-kota. The Makololo were eager
to travel fast, because they wanted to be back in time to hoe their
fields before the rains, and also because their wives needed looking
after.
In going in the first instance N.E. from the uppermost Cataract, we
followed in a measure the great bend of the river towards the foot of
Mount Zomba. Here we had a view of its most imposing side, the west,
with the plateau some 3000 feet high, stretching away to its south,
and Mounts Chiradzuru and Mochiru towering aloft to the sky. From
that goodly highland station, it was once hoped by the noble
Mackenzie, who, for largeness of heart and loving disposition, really
deserved to be called the "Bishop of Central Africa," that light and
liberty would spread to all the interior. We still think it may be a
centre for civilizing influences; for any one descending from these
cool heights, and stepping into a boat on the Upper Shire, can sail
three hundred miles without a check into the heart of Africa.
We passed through a tract of country covered with mopane trees, where
the hard baked soil refused to let the usual thick crops of grass
grow; and here we came upon very many tracks of buffaloes, elephants,
antelopes, and the spoor of one lion. An ox we drove along with us,
as provision for the way, was sorely bitten by the tsetse. The
effect of the bite was, as usual, quite apparent two days afterwards,
in the general flaccidity of the muscles, the drooping ears, and
looks of illness. It always excited our wonder that we, who were
frequently much bitten too by the same insects, felt no harm from
their attacks. Man shares the immunity of the wild animals.
Finding a few people on the evening of the 20th of August, who were
supporting a wretched existence on tamarinds and mice, we ascertained
that there was no hope of our being able to buy food anywhere nearer
than the Lakelet Pamalombe, where the Ajawa chief, Kainka, was now
living; but that plenty could be found with the Maravi female chief,
Nyango. We turned away north-westwards, and struck the stream Ribve-
ribve, or Rivi-rivi, which rises in the Maravi range, and flows into
the Shire.
As the Rivi-rivi came from the N.W. we continued to travel along its
banks, until we came to people who had successfully defended
themselves against the hordes of the Ajawa. By employing the men of
one village to go forward and explain who we were to the next, we
managed to prevent the frightened inhabitants from considering us a
fresh party of Ajawa, or of Portuguese slaving agents. Here they had
cultivated maize, and were willing to sell, but no persuasion could
induce them to give us guides to the chieftainess, Nyango. They
evidently felt that we were not to be trusted; though, as we had to
certify to our own character, our companions did not fail "to blow
our own trumpet," with blasts in which modesty was quite out of the
question. To allay suspicion, we had at last to refrain from
mentioning the lady's name.
It would be wearisome to repeat the names of the villages we passed
on our way to the north-west. One was the largest we ever saw in
Africa, and quite deserted, with the usual sad sight of many
skeletons lying about. Another was called Tette. We know three
places of this name, which fact shows it to be a native word; it
seems to mean a place where the water rushes over rocks. A third
village was called Chipanga (a great work), a name identical with the
Shupanga of the Portuguese. This repetition of names may indicate
that the same people first took these epithets in their traditional
passage from north to south.
At this season of the year the nights are still cold, and the people,
having no crops to occupy their attention, do not stir out till long
after the sun is up. At other times they are off to their fields
before the day dawns, and the first sound one hears is the loud
talking of men and women, in which they usually indulge in the dark
to scare off beasts by the sound of the human voice. When no work is
to be done, the first warning of approaching day is the hemp-smoker's
loud ringing cough.
Having been delayed one morning by some negotiation about guides, who
were used chiefly to introduce us to other villages, we two whites
walked a little way ahead, taking the direction of the stream. The
men having been always able to find out our route by the prints of
our shoes, we went on for a number of miles. This time, however,
they lost our track, and failed to follow us. The path was well
marked by elephants, hyenas, pallahs, and zebras, but for many a day
no human foot had trod it. When the sun went down a deserted hamlet
was reached, where we made comfortable beds for ourselves of grass.
Firing muskets to attract the attention of those who have strayed is
the usual resource in these cases. On this occasion the sound of
firearms tended to mislead us; for, hearing shots next morning, a
long weary march led us only to some native hunters, who had been
shooting buffaloes. Returning to a small village, we met with some
people who remembered our passing up to the Lake in the boat; they
were as kind as they could be. The only food they possessed was
tamarinds, prepared with ashes, and a little cowitch meal. The
cowitch, as mentioned before, has a velvety brown covering of minute
prickles, which, if touched, enter the pores of the skin and cause a
painful tingling. The women in times of scarcity collect the pods,
kindle a fire of grass over them to destroy the prickles, then steep
the beans till they begin to sprout, wash them in pure water, and
either boil them or pound them into meal, which resembles our bean-
meal. This plant climbs up the long grass, and abounds in all reedy
parts, and, though a plague to the traveller who touches its pods, it
performs good service in times of famine by saving many a life from
starvation. Its name here is Kitedzi.
Having travelled at least twenty miles in search of our party that
day, our rest on a mat in the best hut of the village was very sweet.
We had dined the evening before on a pigeon each, and had eaten only
a handful of kitedzi porridge this afternoon. The good wife of the
village took a little corn which she had kept for seed, ground it
after dark, and made it into porridge. This, and a cup of wild
vegetables of a sweetish taste for a relish, a little boy brought in
and put down, with several vigorous claps of his hands, in the manner
which is esteemed polite, and which is strictly enjoined on all
children.
On the third day of separation, Akosanjere, the headman of this
village, conducted us forward to our party who had gone on to Nseze,
a district to the westward. This incident is mentioned, not for any
interest it possesses, apart from the idea of the people it conveys.
We were completely separated from our men for nearly three days, and
had nothing wherewith to purchase food. The people were sorely
pressed by famine and war, and their hospitality, poor as it was, did
them great credit, and was most grateful to us. Our own men had
become confused and wandered, but had done their utmost to find us;
on our rejoining them, the ox was slain, and all, having been on
short commons, rejoiced in this "day of slaughter." Akosanjere was,
of course, rewarded to his heart's content.
As we pursued our way, we came close up to a range of mountains, the
most prominent peak of which is called Mvai. This is a great, bare,
rounded block of granite shooting up from the rest of the chain. It
and several other masses of rock are of a light grey colour, with
white patches, as if of lichens; the sides and summits are generally
thinly covered with rather scraggy trees. There are several other
prominent peaks--one, for instance, still further north, called
Chirobve. Each has a name, but we could never ascertain that there
was an appellation which applied to the whole. This fact, and our
wish to commemorate the name of Dr. Kirk, induced us afterwards, when
we could not discover a particular peak mentioned to us formerly as
Molomo-ao-koku, or Cock's-bill, to call the whole chain from the west
of the Cataracts up to the north end of the Lake, "Kirk's Range."
The part we slept at opposite Mvai was named Paudio, and was
evidently a continuation of the district of one of our stations on
the Shire, at which observations for latitude were formerly taken.
Leaving Paudio, we had Kirk's Range close on our left and at least
3000 feet above us, and probably not less than 5000 feet above the
sea. Far to our right extended a long green wooded country rising
gradually up to a ridge, ornamented with several detached mountains,
which bounded the Shire Valley. In front, northwards, lay a valley
as rich and lovely as we ever saw anywhere, terminating at the
mountains, which, stretched away some thirty miles beyond our range
of vision and ended at Cape Maclear. The groups of trees had never
been subjected to the landscape gardener's art; but had been cut down
mercilessly, just as suited the convenience of the cultivator; yet
the various combinations of open forest, sloping woodland, grassy
lawns, and massive clumps of dark green foliage along the running
streams, formed as beautiful a landscape as could be seen on the
Thames. This valley is named Goa or Gova, and as we moved through it
we found that what was smooth to the eye was very much furrowed by
running streams winding round innumerable knolls. These little
brooklets came down from the range on our left, and the water was
deliciously cool.
When we came abreast of the peak Chirobve, the people would no longer
give us guides. They were afraid of their enemies, whose dwellings
we now had on our east; and, proceeding without any one to lead us,
or to introduce us to the inhabitants, we were perplexed by all the
paths running zigzag across instead of along the valley. They had
been made by the villagers going from the hamlets on the slopes to
their gardens in the meadows below. To add to our difficulties, the
rivulets and mountain-torrents had worn gullies some thirty or forty
feet deep, with steep sides that could not be climbed except at
certain points. The remaining inhabitants on the flank of the range
when they saw strangers winding from side to side, and often
attempting to cross these torrent beds at impossible places, screamed
out their shrill war-alarm, and made the valley ring with their wild
outcries. It was war, and war alone, and we were too deep down in
the valley to make our voices heard in explanation. Fortunately,
they had burned off the long grass to a great extent. It only here
and there hid them from us. Selecting an open spot, we spent a night
regarded by all around us as slave-hunters, but were undisturbed,
though the usual way of treating an enemy in this part of the country
is by night attack.
The nights at the altitude of the valley were cool, the lowest
temperature shown being 37 degrees; at 9 a.m. and 9 p.m. it was 58
degrees, about the average temperature of the day; at mid-day 82
degrees, and sunset 70 degrees. Our march was very much hindered by
the imperfectly burned corn and grass stalks having fallen across the
paths. To a reader in England this will seem a very small obstacle.
But he must fancy the grass stems as thick as his little finger, and
the corn-stalks like so many walkingsticks lying in one direction,
and so supporting each other that one has to lift his feet up as when
wading through deep high heather. The stems of grass showed the
causes of certain explosions as loud as pistols, which are heard when
the annual fires come roaring over the land. The heated air inside
expanding bursts the stalk with a loud report, and strews the
fragments on the ground.
A very great deal of native corn had been cultivated here, and we saw
buffaloes feeding in the deserted gardens, and some women, who ran
away very much faster than the beasts did.
On the 29th, seeing some people standing under a tree by a village,
we sat down, and sent Masego, one of our party, to communicate. The
headman, Matunda, came back with him, bearing a calabash with water
for us. He said that all the people had fled from the Ajawa, who had
only just desisted from their career of pillage on being paid five
persons as a fine for some offence for which they had commenced the
invasion. Matunda had plenty of grain to sell, and all the women
were soon at work grinding it into meal. We secured an abundant
supply, and four milk goats. The Manganja goat is of a very superior
breed to the general African animal, being short in the legs and
having a finely-shaped broad body. By promising the Makololo that,
when we no longer needed the milk, they should have the goats to
improve the breed of their own at home, they were induced to take the
greatest possible care of both goats and kids in driving and
pasturing.
After leaving Matunda, we came to the end of the highland valley;
and, before descending a steep declivity of a thousand feet towards
the part which may be called the heel of the Lake, we had the bold
mountains of Cape Maclear on our right, with the blue water at their
base, the hills of Tsenga in the distance in front, and Kirk's Range
on our left, stretching away northwards, and apparently becoming
lower. As we came down into a fine rich undulating valley, many
perennial streams running to the east from the hills on our left were
crossed, while all those behind us on the higher ground seemed to
unite in one named Lekue, which flowed into the Lake.
After a long day's march in the valley of the Lake, where the
temperature was very much higher than in that we had just left, we
entered the village of Katosa, which is situated on the bank of a
stream among gigantic timber trees, and found there a large party of
Ajawa--Waiau, they called themselves--all armed with muskets. We sat
down among them, and were soon called to the chiefs court, and
presented with an ample mess of porridge, buffalo meat, and beer.
Katosa was more frank than any Manganja chief we had met, and
complimented us by saying that "we must be his 'Bazimo' (good spirits
of his ancestors); for when he lived at Pamalombe, we lighted upon
him from above--men the like of whom he had never seen before, and
coming he knew not whence." He gave us one of his own large and
clean huts to sleep in; and we may take this opportunity of saying
that the impression we received, from our first journey on the hills
among the villages of Chisunse, of the excessive dirtiness of the
Manganja, was erroneous. This trait was confined to the cool
highlands. Here crowds of men and women were observed to perform
their ablutions daily in the stream that ran past their villages; and
this we have observed elsewhere to be a common custom with both
Manganja and Ajawa.
Before we started on the morning of the 1st September, Katosa sent an
enormous calabash of beer, containing at least three gallons, and
then came and wished us to "stop a day and eat with him." On
explaining to him the reasons for our haste, he said that he was in
the way by which travellers usually passed, he never stopped them in
their journeys, but would like to look at us for a day. On our
promising to rest a little with him on our return, he gave us about
two pecks of rice, and three guides to conduct us to a subordinate
female chief, Nkwinda, living on the borders of the Lake in front.
The Ajawa, from having taken slaves down to Quillimane and
Mosambique, knew more of us than Katosa did. Their muskets were
carefully polished, and never out of these slaver's hands for a
moment, though in the chiefs presence. We naturally felt
apprehensive that we should never see Katosa again. A migratory
afflatus seems to have come over the Ajawa tribes. Wars among
themselves, for the supply of the Coast slave-trade, are said to have
first set them in motion. The usual way in which they have advanced
among the Manganja has been by slave-trading in a friendly way.
Then, professing to wish to live as subjects, they have been welcomed
as guests, and the Manganja, being great agriculturists, have been
able to support considerable bodies of these visitors for a time.
When the provisions became scarce, the guests began to steal from the
fields; quarrels arose in consequence, and, the Ajawa having
firearms, their hosts got the worst of it, and were expelled from
village after village, and out of their own country. The Manganja
were quite as bad in regard to slave-trading as the Ajawa, but had
less enterprise, and were much more fond of the home pursuits of
spinning, weaving, smelting iron, and cultivating the soil, than of
foreign travel. The Ajawa had little of a mechanical turn, and not
much love for agriculture, but were very keen traders and travellers.
This party seemed to us to be in the first or friendly stage of
intercourse with Katosa; and, as we afterwards found, he was fully
alive to the danger.
Our course was shaped towards the N.W., and we traversed a large
fertile tract of rich soil extensively cultivated, but dotted with
many gigantic thorny acacias which had proved too large for the
little axes of the cultivators. After leaving Nkwinda, the first
village we spent a night at in the district Ngabi was that of Chembi,
and it had a stockade around it. The Azitu or Mazitu were said to be
ravaging the country to the west of us, and no one was safe except in
a stockade. We have so often, in travelling, heard of war in front,
that we paid little attention to the assertion of Chembi, that the
whole country to the N.W. was in flight before these Mazitu, under a
chief with the rather formidable name of Mowhiriwhiri; we therefore
resolved to go on to Chinsamba's, still further in the same
direction, and hear what he said about it.
The only instrument of husbandry here is the short-handled hoe; and
about Tette the labour of tilling the soil, as represented in the
woodcut, is performed entirely by female slaves. On the West Coast a
double-handled hoe is employed. Here the small hoe is seen in the
hands of both men and women. In other parts of Africa a hoe with a
handle four feet long is used, but the plough is quite unknown.
In illustration of the manner in which the native knowledge of
agriculture strikes an honest intelligent observer, it may be
mentioned that the first time good Bishop Mackenzie beheld how well
the fields of the Manganja were cultivated on the hills, he remarked
to Dr. Livingstone, then his fellow-traveller--"When telling the
people in England what were my objects in going out to Africa, I
stated that, among other things, I meant to teach these people
agriculture; but I now see that they know far more about it than I
do." This, we take it, was an honest straightforward testimony, and
we believe that every unprejudiced witness, who has an opportunity of
forming an opinion of Africans who have never been debased by
slavery, will rank them very much higher in the scale of
intelligence, industry, and manhood, than others who know them only
in a state of degradation.
On coming near Chinsamba's two stockades, on the banks of the
Lintipe, we were told that the Mazitu had been repulsed there the day
before, and we had evidence of the truth of the report of the attack
in the sad sight of the bodies of the slain. The Zulus had taken off
large numbers of women laden with corn; and, when driven back, had
cut off the ears of a male prisoner, as a sort of credential that he
had been with the Mazitu, and with grim humour sent him to tell
Chinsamba "to take good care of the corn in the stockades, for they
meant to return for it in a month or two."
Chinsamba's people were drumming with might and main on our arrival,
to express their joy at their deliverance from the Mazitu. The drum
is the chief instrument of music among the Manganja, and with it they
express both their joy and grief. They excel in beating time.
Chinsamba called us into a very large hut, and presented us with a
huge basket of beer. The glare of sunlight from which we had come
enabled him, in diplomatic fashion, to have a good view of us before
our eyes became enough accustomed to the dark inside to see him. He
has a Jewish cast of countenance, or rather the ancient Assyrian
face, as seen in the monuments brought to the British Museum by Mr.
Layard. This form of face is very common in this country, and leads
to the belief that the true type of the negro is not that met on the
West Coast, from which most people have derived their ideas of the
African.
Chinsamba had many Abisa or Babisa in his stockade, and it was
chiefly by the help of their muskets that he had repulsed the Mazitu:
these Babisa are great travellers and traders.
We liked Chinsamba very well, and found that he was decidedly opposed
to our risking our lives by going further to the N.W. The Mazitu
were believed to occupy all the hills in that direction, so we spent
the 4th of September with him.
It is rather a minute thing to mention, and it will only be
understood by those who have children of their own, but the cries of
the little ones, in their infant sorrows, are the same in tone, at
different ages, here as all over the world. We have been perpetually
reminded of home and family by the wailings which were once familiar
to parental ears and heart, and felt thankful that to the sorrows of
childhood our children would never have superadded the heartrending
woes of the slave-trade.
Taking Chinsamba's advice to avoid the Mazitu in their marauding, we
started on the 5th September away to the N.E., and passed mile after
mile of native cornfields, with an occasional cotton-patch.
After a long march, we passed over a waterless plain about N.N.W. of
the hills of Tsenga to a village on the Lake, and thence up its
shores to Chitanda. The banks of the Lake were now crowded with
fugitives, who had collected there for the poor protection which the
reeds afforded. For miles along the water's edge was one continuous
village of temporary huts. The people had brought a little corn with
them; but they said, "What shall we eat when that is done? When we
plant corn, the wild beasts (Zinyama, as they call the Mazitu) come
and take it. When we plant cassava, they do the same. How are we to
live?" A poor blind woman, thinking we were Mazitu, rushed off in
front of us with outspread arms, lifting the feet high, in the manner
peculiar to those who have lost their sight, and jumped into the
reeds of a stream for safety.
In our way along the shores we crossed several running rivulets of
clear cold water, which, from having reeds at their confluences, had
not been noticed in our previous exploration in the boat. One of
these was called Mokola, and another had a strong odour of
sulphuretted hydrogen. We reached Molamba on the 8th September, and
found our old acquaintance, Nkomo, there still. One of the
advantages of travelling along the shores of the Lake was, that we
could bathe anywhere in its clear fresh water. To us, who had been
obliged so often to restrain our inclination in the Zambesi and Shire
for fear of crocodiles, this was pleasant beyond measure. The water
now was of the same temperature as it was on our former visit, or 72
degrees Fahr. The immense depth of the Lake prevents the rays of the
sun from raising the temperature as high as that of the Shire and
Zambesi; and the crocodiles, having always clear water in the Lake,
and abundance of fish, rarely attack man; many of these reptiles
could be seen basking on the rocks.
A day's march beyond Molamba brought us to the lakelet Chia, which
lies parallel with the Lake. It is three or four miles long, by from
one to one and a half broad, and communicates with the Lake by an arm
of good depth, but with some rocks in it. As we passed up between
the Lake and the eastern shore of this lakelet, we did not see any
streams flowing into it. It is quite remarkable for the abundance of
fish; and we saw upwards of fifty large canoes engaged in the
fishery, which is carried on by means of hand-nets with side-frame
poles about seven feet long. These nets are nearly identical with
those now in use in Normandy--the difference being that the African
net has a piece of stick lashed across the handle-ends of the side
poles to keep them steady, which is a great improvement. The fish
must be very abundant to be scooped out of the water in such
quantities as we saw, and by so many canoes. There is quite a trade
here in dried fish.
The country around is elevated, undulating, and very extensively
planted with cassava. The hoe in use has a handle of four feet in
length, and the iron part is exactly of the same form as that in the
country of the Bechuanas. The baskets here, which are so closely
woven together as to hold beer, are the same with those employed to
hold milk in Kaffirland--a thousand miles distant.
Marching on foot is peculiarly conducive to meditation--one is glad
of any subject to occupy the mind, and relieve the monotony of the
weary treadmill-like trudge-trudging. This Chia net brought to our
mind that the smith's bellows made here of a goatskin bag, with
sticks along the open ends, are the same as those in use in the
Bechuana country far to the south-west. These, with the long-handled
hoe, may only show that each successive horde from north to south
took inventions with it from the same original source. Where that
source may have been is probably indicated by another pair of
bellows, which we observed below the Victoria Falls, being found in
Central India and among the Gipsies of Europe.
Men in remote times may have had more highly-developed instincts,
which enabled them to avoid or use poisons; but the late Archbishop
Whately has proved, that wholly untaught savages never could invent
anything, or even subsist at all. Abundant corroboration of his
arguments is met with in this country, where the natives require but
little in the way of clothing, and have remarkably hardy stomachs.
Although possessing a knowledge of all the edible roots and fruits in
the country, having hoes to dig with, and spears, bows, and arrows to
kill the game,--we have seen that, notwithstanding all these
appliances and means to boot, they have perished of absolute
starvation.
The art of making fire is the same in India as in Africa. The
smelting furnaces, for reducing iron and copper from the ores, are
also similar. Yellow haematite, which bears not the smallest
resemblance either in colour or weight to the metal, is employed near
Kolobeng for the production of iron. Malachite, the precious green
stone used in civilized life for vases, would never be suspected by
the uninstructed to be a rich ore of copper, and yet it is
extensively smelted for rings and other ornaments in the heart of
Africa. A copper bar of native manufacture four feet long was
offered to us for sale at Chinsamba's. These arts are monuments
attesting the fact, that some instruction from above must at some
time or other have been supplied to mankind; and, as Archbishop
Whately says, "the most probable conclusion is, that man when first
created, or very shortly afterwards, was advanced, by the Creator
Himself, to a state above that of a mere savage."
The argument for an original revelation to man, though quite
independent of the Bible history, tends to confirm that history. It
is of the same nature with this, that man could not have MADE
himself, and therefore must have had a Divine CREATOR. Mankind could
not, in the first instance, have CIVILIZED themselves, and therefore
must have had a superhuman INSTRUCTOR.
In connection with this subject, it is remarkable that throughout
successive generations no change has taken place in the form of the
various inventions. Hammers, tongs, hoes, axes, adzes, handles to
them; needles, bows and arrows, with the mode of feathering the
latter; spears, for killing game, with spear-heads having what is
termed "dish" on both sides to give them, when thrown, the rotatory
motion of rifle-balls; the arts of spinning and weaving, with that of
pounding and steeping the inner bark of a tree till it serves as
clothing; millstones for grinding corn into meal; the manufacture of
the same kind of pots or chatties as in India; the art of cooking, of
brewing beer and straining it as was done in ancient Egypt; fish-
hooks, fishing and hunting nets, fish-baskets, and weirs, the same as
in the Highlands of Scotland; traps for catching animals, etc.,
etc.,--have all been so very permanent from age to age, and some of
them of identical patterns are so widely spread over the globe, as to
render it probable that they were all, at least in some degree,
derived from one Source. The African traditions, which seem
possessed of the same unchangeability as the arts to which they
relate, like those of all other nations refer their origin to a
superior Being. And it is much more reasonable to receive the hints
given in Genesis, concerning direct instruction from God to our first
parents or their children in religious or moral duty, and probably in
the knowledge of the arts of life, {6} than to give credence to the
theory that untaught savage man subsisted in a state which would
prove fatal to all his descendants, and that in such helpless state
he made many inventions which most of his progeny retained, but never
improved upon during some thirty centuries.
We crossed in canoes the arm of the Lake, which joins Chia to Nyassa,
and spent the night on its northern bank. The whole country adjacent
to the Lake, from this point up to Kota-kota Bay, is densely peopled
by thousands who have fled from the forays of the Mazitu in hopes of
protection from the Arabs who live there. In three running rivulets
we saw the Shuare palm, and an oil palm which is much inferior to
that on the West Coast. Though somewhat similar in appearance, the
fruit is not much larger than hazel-nuts, and the people do not use
them, on account of the small quantity of oil which they afford.
The idea of using oil for light never seems to have entered the
African mind. Here a bundle of split and dried bamboo, tied together
with creeping plants, as thick as a man's body, and about twenty feet
in length, is employed in the canoes as a torch to attract the fish
at night. It would be considered a piece of the most wasteful
extravagance to burn the oil they obtain from the castor-oil bean and
other seeds, and also from certain fish, or in fact to do anything
with it but anoint their heads and bodies.
We arrived at Kota-kota Bay in the afternoon of the 10th September,
1863; and sat down under a magnificent wild fig-tree with leaves ten
inches long, by five broad, about a quarter of a mile from the
village of Juma ben Saidi, and Yakobe ben Arame, whom we had met on
the River Kaombe, a little north of this, in our first exploration of
the Lake. We had rested but a short time when Juma, who is evidently
the chief person here, followed by about fifty people, came to salute
us and to invite us to take up our quarters in his village. The hut
which, by mistake, was offered, was so small and dirty, that we
preferred sleeping in an open space a few hundred yards off.
Juma afterwards apologized for the mistake, and presented us with
rice, meal, sugar-cane, and a piece of malachite. We returned his
visit on the following day, and found him engaged in building a dhow
or Arab vessel, to replace one which he said had been wrecked. This
new one was fifty feet long, twelve feet broad, and five feet deep.
The planks were of a wood like teak, here called Timbati, and the
timbers of a closer grained wood called Msoro. The sight of this
dhow gave us a hint which, had we previously received it, would have
prevented our attempting to carry a vessel of iron past the
Cataracts. The trees around Katosa's village were Timbati, and they
would have yielded planks fifty feet long and thirty inches broad.
With a few native carpenters a good vessel could be built on the Lake
nearly as quickly as one could be carried past the Cataracts, and at
a vastly less cost. Juma said that no money would induce him to part
with this dhow. He was very busy in transporting slaves across the
Lake by means of two boats, which we saw returning from a trip in the
afternoon. As he did not know of our intention to visit him, we came
upon several gangs of stout young men slaves, each secured by the
neck to one common chain, waiting for exportation, and several more
in slave-sticks. These were all civilly removed before our interview
was over, because Juma knew that we did not relish the sight.
When we met the same Arabs in 1861, they had but few attendants:
according to their own account, they had now, in the village and
adjacent country, 1500 souls. It is certain that tens of thousands
had flocked to them for protection, and all their power and influence
must be attributed to the possession of guns and gunpowder. This
crowding of refugees to any point where there is a hope for security
for life and property is very common in this region, and the
knowledge of it made our hopes beat high for the success of a
peaceful Mission on the shores of the Lake. The rate, however, in
which the people here will perish by the next famine, or be exported
by Juma and others, will, we fear, depopulate those parts which we
have just described as crowded with people. Hunger will ere long
compel them to sell each other. An intelligent man complained to us
of the Arabs often seizing slaves, to whom they took a fancy, without
the formality of purchase; but the price is so low--from two to four
yards of calico--that one can scarcely think this seizure and
exportation without payment worth their while. The boats were in
constant employment, and, curiously enough, Ben Habib, whom we met at
Linyanti in 1855, had been taken across the Lake, the day before our
arrival at this Bay, on his way from Sesheke to Kilwa, and we became
acquainted with a native servant of the Arabs, called Selele
Saidallah, who could speak the Makololo language pretty fairly from
having once spent some months in the Barotse Valley.
From boyhood upwards we have been accustomed, from time to time, to
read in books of travels about the great advances annually made by
Mohammedanism in Africa. The rate at which this religion spreads was
said to be so rapid, that in after days, in our own pretty extensive
travels, we have constantly been on the look out for the advancing
wave from North to South, which, it was prophesied, would soon reduce
the entire continent to the faith of the false prophet. The only
foundation that we can discover for the assertions referred to, and
for others of more recent date, is the fact that in a remote corner
of North-Western Africa the Fulahs, and Mandingoes, and some others
in Northern Africa, as mentioned by Dr. Barth, have made conquests of
territory; but even they care so very little for the extension of
their faith, that after the conquest no pains whatever are taken to
indoctrinate the adults of the tribe. This is in exact accordance
with the impression we have received from our intercourse with
Mohammedans and Christians. The followers of Christ alone are
anxious to propagate their faith. A quasi philanthropist would
certainly never need to recommend the followers of Islam, whom we
have met, to restrain their benevolence by preaching that "Charity
should begin at home."
Though Selele and his companions were bound to their masters by
domestic ties, the only new idea they had imbibed from Mohammedanism
was, that it would be wrong to eat meat killed by other people. They
thought it would be "unlucky." Just as the inhabitants of Kolobeng,
before being taught the requirements of Christianity, refrained from
hoeing their gardens on Sundays, lest they should reap an unlucky
crop. So far as we could learn, no efforts had been made to convert
the natives, though these two Arabs, and about a dozen half-castes,
had been in the country for many years; and judging from our
experience with a dozen Mohammedans in our employ at high wages for
sixteen months, the Africans would be the better men in proportion as
they retained their native faith. This may appear only a harsh
judgment from a mind imbued with Christian prejudices; but without
any pretention to that impartiality, which leaves it doubtful to
which side the affections lean, the truth may be fairly stated by one
who viewed all Mohammedans and Africans with the sincerest good will.
Our twelve Mohammedans from Johanna were the least open of any of our
party to impression from kindness. A marked difference in general
conduct was apparent. The Makololo, and other natives of the
country, whom we had with us, invariably shared with each other the
food they had cooked, but the Johanna men partook of their meals at a
distance. This, at first, we attributed to their Moslem prejudices;
but when they saw the cooking process of the others nearly complete,
they came, sat beside them, and ate the portion offered without ever
remembering to return the compliment when their own turn came to be
generous. The Makololo and the others grumbled at their greediness,
yet always followed the common custom of Africans of sharing their
food with all who sit around them. What vexed us most in the Johanna
men was their indifference to the welfare of each other. Once, when
they were all coming to the ship after sleeping ashore, one of them
walked into the water with the intention of swimming off to the boat,
and while yet hardly up to his knees was seized by a horrid crocodile
and dragged under; the poor fellow gave a shriek, and held up his
hand for aid, but none of his countrymen stirred to his assistance,
and he was never seen again. On asking his brother-in-law why he did
not help him, he replied, "Well, no one told him to go into the
water. It was his own fault that he was killed." The Makololo on
the other hand rescued a woman at Senna by entering the water, and
taking her out of the crocodile's mouth.
It is not assumed that their religion had much to do in the matter.
Many Mohammedans might contrast favourably with indifferent
Christians; but, so far as our experience in East Africa goes, the
moral tone of the follower of Mahomed is pitched at a lower key than
that of the untutored African. The ancient zeal for propagating the
tenets of the Koran has evaporated, and been replaced by the most
intense selfishness and grossest sensuality. The only known efforts
made by Mohammedans, namely, those in the North-West and North of the
continent, are so linked with the acquisition of power and plunder,
as not to deserve the name of religious propagandism; and the only
religion that now makes proselytes is that of Jesus Christ. To those
who are capable of taking a comprehensive view of this subject,
nothing can be adduced of more telling significance than the well-
attested fact, that while the Mohammedans, Fulahs, and others towards
Central Africa, make a few proselytes by a process which gratifies
their own covetousness, three small sections of the Christian
converts, the Africans in the South, in the West Indies, and on the
West Coast of Africa actually contribute for the support and spread
of their religion upwards of 15,000 pounds annually. {7} That
religion which so far overcomes the selfishness of the human heart
must be Divine.
Leaving Kota-kota Bay, we turned away due West on the great slave
route to Katanga's and Cazembe's country in Londa. Juma lent us his
servant, Selele, to lead us the first day's march. He said that the
traders from Kilwa and Iboe cross the Lake either at this bay, or at
Tsenga, or at the southern end of the Lake; and that wherever they
may cross they all go by this path to the interior. They have slaves
with them to carry their goods, and when they reach a spot where they
can easily buy others, they settle down and begin the traffic, and at
once cultivate grain. So much of the land lies waste, that no
objection is ever made to any one taking possession of as much as he
needs; they can purchase a field of cassava for their present wants
for very little, and they continue trading in the country for two or
three years, and giving what weight their muskets possess to the
chief who is most liberal to them.
The first day's march led us over a rich, well-cultivated plain.
This was succeeded by highlands, undulating, stony, and covered with
scraggy trees. Many banks of well rounded shingle appear. The
disintegration of the rocks, now going on, does not round off the
angles; they are split up by the heat and cold into angular
fragments. On these high downs we crossed the River Kaombe. Beyond
it we came among the upland vegetation--rhododendrons, proteas, the
masuko, and molompi. At the foot of the hill, Kasuko-suko, we found
the River Bua running north to join the Kaombe. We had to go a mile
out of our way for a ford; the stream is deep enough in parts for
hippopotami. The various streams not previously noticed, crossed in
this journey, had before this led us to the conclusion, independently
of the testimony of the natives, that no large river ran into the
north end of the Lake. No such affluent was needed to account for
the Shire's perennial flow.
On September 15th we reached the top of the ascent which, from its
many ups and downs, had often made us puff and blow as if broken-
winded. The water of the streams we crossed was deliciously cold,
and now that we had gained the summit at Ndonda, where the boiling-
point of water showed an altitude of 3440 feet above the sea, the air
was delightful. Looking back we had a magnificent view of the Lake,
but the haze prevented our seeing beyond the sea horizon. The scene
was beautiful, but it was impossible to dissociate the lovely
landscape whose hills and dales had so sorely tried our legs and
lungs, from the sad fact that this was part of the great slave route
now actually in use. By this road many "Ten thousands" have here
seen "the Sea," "the Sea," but with sinking hearts; for the universal
idea among the captive gangs is, that they are going to be fattened
and eaten by the whites. They cannot of course be so much shocked as
we should be--their sensibilities are far from fine, their feelings
are more obtuse than ours--in fact, "the live eels are used to being
skinned," perhaps they rather like it. We who are not philosophic,
blessed the Providence which at Thermopylae in ancient days rolled
back the tide of Eastern conquest from the West, and so guided the
course of events that light and liberty and gospel truth spread to
our distant isle, and emancipating our race freed them from the fear
of ever again having to climb fatiguing heights and descend wearisome
hollows in a slave-gang, as we suppose they did when the fair English
youths were exposed for sale at Rome.
Looking westwards we perceived that, what from below had the
appearance of mountains, was only the edge of a table-land which,
though at first undulating, soon became smooth, and sloped towards
the centre of the country. To the south a prominent mountain called
Chipata, and to the south-west another named Ngalla, by which the Bua
is said to rise, gave character to the landscape. In the north,
masses of hills prevented our seeing more than eight or ten miles.
The air which was so exhilarating to Europeans had an opposite effect
on five men who had been born and reared in the malaria of the Delta
of the Zambesi. No sooner did they reach the edge of the plateau at
Ndonda, than they lay down prostrate, and complained of pains all
over them. The temperature was not much lower than that on the
shores of the Lake below, 76 degrees being the mean temperature of
the day, 52 degrees the lowest, and 82 degrees the highest during the
twenty-four hours; at the Lake it was about l0 degrees higher. Of
the symptoms they complained of--pains everywhere--nothing could be
made. And yet it was evident that they had good reason for saying
that they were ill. They scarified almost every part of their bodies
as a remedial measure; medicines, administered on the supposition
that their malady was the effect of a sudden chill, had no effect,
and in two days one of them actually died in consequence of, as far
as we could judge, a change from a malarious to a purer and more
rarefied atmosphere.
As we were on the slave route, we found the people more churlish than
usual. On being expostulated with about it, they replied, "We have
been made wary by those who come to buy slaves." The calamity of
death having befallen our party, seemed, however, to awaken their
sympathies. They pointed out their usual burying-place, lent us
hoes, and helped to make the grave. When we offered to pay all
expenses, they showed that they had not done these friendly offices
without fully appreciating their value; for they enumerated the use
of the hut, the mat on which the deceased had lain, the hoes, the
labour, and the medicine which they had scattered over the place to
make him rest in peace.
The primitive African faith seems to be that there is one Almighty
Maker of heaven and earth; that he has given the various plants of
earth to man to be employed as mediators between him and the spirit
world, where all who have ever been born and died continue to live;
that sin consists in offences against their fellow-men, either here
or among the departed, and that death is often a punishment of guilt,
such as witchcraft. Their idea of moral evil differs in no respect
from ours, but they consider themselves amenable only to inferior
beings, not to the Supreme. Evil-speaking--lying--hatred--
disobedience to parents--neglect of them--are said by the intelligent
to have been all known to be sin, as well as theft, murder, or
adultery, before they knew aught of Europeans or their teaching. The
only new addition to their moral code is, that it is wrong to have
more wives than one. This, until the arrival of Europeans, never
entered into their minds even as a doubt.
Everything not to be accounted for by common causes, whether of good
or evil, is ascribed to the Deity. Men are inseparably connected
with the spirits of the departed, and when one dies he is believed to
have joined the hosts of his ancestors. All the Africans we have met
with are as firmly persuaded of their future existence as of their
present life. And we have found none in whom the belief in the
Supreme Being was not rooted. He is so invariably referred to as the
Author of everything supernatural, that, unless one is ignorant of
their language, he cannot fail to notice this prominent feature of
their faith. When they pass into the unseen world, they do not seem
to be possessed with the fear of punishment. The utensils placed
upon the grave are all broken as if to indicate that they will never
be used by the departed again. The body is put into the grave in a
sitting posture, and the hands are folded in front. In some parts of
the country there are tales which we could translate into faint
glimmerings of a resurrection; but whether these fables, handed down
from age to age, convey that meaning to the natives themselves we
cannot tell. The true tradition of faith is asserted to be "though a
man die he will live again;" the false that when he dies he is dead
for ever.
CHAPTER XIV.
Important geographical discoveries in the Wabisa countries--Cruelty
of the slave-trade--The Mazitu--Serious illness of Dr. Livingstone--
Return to the ship.
In our course westwards, we at first passed over a gently undulating
country, with a reddish clayey soil, which, from the heavy crops,
appeared to be very fertile. Many rivulets were crossed, some
running southwards into the Bua, and others northwards into the
Loangwa, a river which we formerly saw flowing into the Lake.
Further on, the water was chiefly found in pools and wells. Then
still further, in the same direction, some watercourses were said to
flow into that same "Loangwa of the Lake," and others into the
Loangwa, which flows to the south-west, and enters the Zambesi at
Zumbo, and is here called the "Loangwa of the Maravi." The trees
were in general scraggy, and covered, exactly as they are in the damp
climate of the Coast, with lichens, resembling orchilla-weed. The
maize, which loves rather a damp soil, had been planted on ridges to
allow the superfluous moisture to run off. Everything indicated a
very humid climate, and the people warned us that, as the rains were
near, we were likely to be prevented from returning by the country
becoming flooded and impassable.
Villages, as usual encircled by euphorbia hedges, were numerous, and
a great deal of grain had been cultivated around them. Domestic
fowls, in plenty, and pigeons with dovecots like those in Egypt were
seen. The people call themselves Matumboka, but the only difference
between them and the rest of the Manganja is in the mode of tattooing
the face. Their language is the same. Their distinctive mark
consists of four tattooed lines diverging from the point between the
eyebrows, which, in frowning, the muscles form into a furrow. The
other lines of tattooing, as in all Manganja, run in long seams,
which crossing each other at certain angles form a great number of
triangular spaces on the breast, back, arms, and thighs. The cuticle
is divided by a knife, and the edges of the incision are drawn apart
till the true skin appears. By a repetition of this process, lines
of raised cicatrices are formed, which are thought to give beauty, no
matter how much pain the fashion gives.
It would not be worth while to advert for a moment to the routine of
travelling, or the little difficulties that beset every one who
attempts to penetrate into a new country, were it not to show the
great source of the power here possessed by slave-traders. We needed
help in carrying our goods, while our men were ill, though still able
to march. When we had settled with others for hire, we were often
told, that the dealers in men had taken possession of some, and had
taken them away altogether. Other things led us to believe that the
slave-traders carry matters with a high hand; and no wonder, for the
possession of gunpowder gives them almost absolute power. The mode
by which tribes armed with bows and arrows carry on warfare, or
defend themselves, is by ambuscade. They never come out in open
fight, but wait for the enemy ensconced behind trees, or in the long
grass of the country, and shoot at him unawares. Consequently, if
men come against them with firearms, when, as is usually the case,
the long grass is all burned off, the tribe attacked are as helpless
as a wooden ship, possessing only signal guns, would be before an
iron-clad steamer. The time of year selected for this kind of
warfare is nearly always that in which the grass is actually burnt
off, or is so dry as readily to take fire. The dry grass in Africa
looks more like ripe English wheat late in the autumn, than anything
else we can compare it to. Let us imagine an English village
standing in a field of this sort, bounded only by the horizon, and
enemies setting fire to a line of a mile or two, by running along
with bunches of burning straw in their hands, touching here and there
the inflammable material,--the wind blowing towards the doomed
village--the inhabitants with only one or two old muskets, but ten to
one no powder,--the long line of flames, leaping thirty feet into the
air with dense masses of black smoke--and pieces of charred grass
falling down in showers. Would not the stoutest English villager,
armed only with the bow and arrow against the enemy's musket, quail
at the idea of breaking through that wall of fire? When at a
distance, we once saw a scene like this, and had the charred grass,
literally as thick as flakes of black snow, falling around us, there
was no difficulty in understanding the secret of the slave-trader's
power.
On the 21st of September, we arrived at the village of the chief
Muasi, or Muazi; it is surrounded by a stockade, and embowered in
very tall euphorbia-trees; their height, thirty or forty feet, shows
that it has been inhabited for at least one generation. A visitation
of disease or death causes the headmen to change the site of their
villages, and plant new hedges; but, though Muazi has suffered from
the attacks of the Mazitu, he has evidently clung to his birthplace.
The village is situated about two miles south-west of a high hill
called Kasungu, which gives the name to a district extending to the
Loangwa of the Maravi. Several other detached granite hills have
been shot up on the plain, and many stockaded villages, all owing
allegiance to Muazi, are scattered over it.
On our arrival, the chief was sitting in the smooth shady place,
called Boalo, where all public business is transacted, with about two
hundred men and boys around him. We paid our guides with due
ostentation. Masiko, the tallest of our party, measured off the
fathom of cloth agreed upon, and made it appear as long as possible,
by facing round to the crowd, and cutting a few inches beyond what
his outstretched arms could reach, to show that there was no
deception. This was by way of advertisement. The people are
mightily gratified at having a tall fellow to measure the cloth for
them. It pleases them even better than cutting it by a tape-line--
though very few men of six feet high can measure off their own length
with their outstretched arms. Here, where Arab traders have been,
the cubit called mokono, or elbow, begins to take the place of the
fathom in use further south. The measure is taken from the point of
the bent elbow to the end of the middle finger.
We found, on visiting Muazi on the following day, that he was as
frank and straightforward as could reasonably be expected. He did
not wish us to go to the N.N.W., because he carries on a considerable
trade in ivory there. We were anxious to get off the slave route, to
people not visited before by traders; but Muazi naturally feared,
that if we went to what is said to be a well-watered country,
abounding in elephants, we might relieve him of the ivory which he
now obtains at a cheap rate, and sells to the slave-traders as they
pass Kasungu to the east; but at last he consented, warning us that
"great difficulty would be experienced in obtaining food--a district
had been depopulated by slave wars--and a night or two must be spent
in it; but he would give us good guides, who would go three days with
us, before turning, and then further progress must depend on
ourselves." Some of our men having been ill ever since we mounted
this highland plain, we remained two days with Muazi.
A herd of fine cattle showed that no tsetse existed in the district.
They had the Indian hump, and were very fat, and very tame. The boys
rode on both cows and bulls without fear, and the animals were so fat
and lazy, that the old ones only made a feeble attempt to kick their
young tormentors. Muazi never milks the cows; he complained that,
but for the Mazitu having formerly captured some, he should now have
had very many. They wander over the country at large, and certainly
thrive.
After leaving Muazi's, we passed over a flat country sparsely covered
with the scraggy upland trees, but brightened with many fine flowers.
The grass was short, reaching no higher than the knee, and growing in
tufts with bare spaces between, though the trees were draped with
many various lichens, and showed a moist climate. A high and very
sharp wind blew over the flats; its piercing keenness was not caused
by low temperature, for the thermometer stood at 80 degrees.
We were now on the sources of the Loangwa of the Maravi, which enters
the Zambesi at Zumbo, and were struck by the great resemblance which
the boggy and sedgy streams here presented to the sources of the
Leeba, an affluent of the Zambesi formerly observed in Londa, and of
the Kasai, which some believe to be the principal branch of the Congo
or Zaire.
We had taken pains to ascertain from the travelled Babisa and Arabs
as much as possible about the country in front, which, from the
lessening time we had at our disposal, we feared we could scarcely
reach, and had heard a good deal of a small lake called Bemba. As we
proceeded west, we passed over the sources not only of the Loangwa,
but of another stream, called Moitawa or Moitala, which was
represented to be the main feeder of Lake Bemba. This would be of
little importance, but for the fact that the considerable river
Luapula, or Loapula is said to flow out of Bemba to the westward, and
then to spread out into another and much larger lake, named Moero, or
Moelo. Flowing still further in the same direction, the Loapula
forms Lake Mofue, or Mofu, and after this it is said to pass the town
of Cazembe, bend to the north, and enter Lake Tanganyika. Whither
the water went after it entered the last lake, no one would venture
an assertion. But that the course indicated is the true watershed of
that part of the country, we believe from the unvarying opinion of
native travellers. There could be no doubt that our informants had
been in the country beyond Cazembe's, for they knew and described
chiefs whom we afterwards met about thirty-five or forty miles west
of his town. The Lualaba is said to flow into the Loapula--and when,
for the sake of testing the accuracy of the travelled, it was
asserted that all the water of the region round the town of Cazembe
flowed into the Luambadzi, or Luambezi (Zambesi), they remarked with
a smile, "He says, that the Loapula flows into the Zambesi--did you
ever hear such nonsense?" or words to that effect. We were forced to
admit, that according to native accounts, our previous impression of
the Zambesi's draining the country about Cazembe's had been a
mistake. Their geographical opinions are now only stated, without
any further comment than that the itinerary given by the Arabs and
others shows that the Loapula is twice crossed on the way to
Cazembe's; and we may add that we have never found any difficulty
from the alleged incapacity of the negro to tell which way a river
flows.
The boiling-point of water showed a descent, from the edge of the
plateau to our furthest point west, of 170 feet; but this can only be
considered as an approximation, and no dependence could have been
placed on it, had we not had the courses of the streams to confirm
this rather rough mode of ascertaining altitudes. The slope, as
shown by the watershed, was to the "Loangwa of the Maravi," and
towards the Moitala, or south-west, west, and north-west. After we
leave the feeders of Lake Nyassa, the water drains towards the centre
of the continent. The course of the Kasai, a river seen during Dr.
Livingstone's journey to the West Coast, and its feeders was to the
north-east, or somewhat in the same direction. Whether the water
thus drained off finds its way out by the Congo, or by the Nile, has
not yet been ascertained. Some parts of the continent have been said
to resemble an inverted dinner-plate. This portion seems more of the
shape, if shape it has, of a wide-awake hat, with the crown a little
depressed. The altitude of the brim in some parts is considerable;
in others, as at Tette and the bottom of Murchison's Cataracts, it is
so small that it could be ascertained only by eliminating the daily
variations of the barometer, by simultaneous observations on the
Coast, and at points some two or three hundred miles inland. So long
as African rivers remain in what we may call the brim, they present
no obstructions; but no sooner do they emerge from the higher lands
than their utility is impaired by cataracts. The low lying belt is
very irregular. At times sloping up in the manner of the rim of an
inverted dinner-plate--while in other cases, a high ridge rises near
the sea, to be succeeded by a lower district inland before we reach
the central plateau. The breadth of the low lands is sometimes as
much as three hundred miles, and that breadth determines the limits
of navigation from the seaward.
We made three long marches beyond Muazi's in a north-westerly
direction; the people were civil enough, but refused to sell us any
food. We were travelling too fast, they said; in fact, they were
startled, and before they recovered their surprise, we were obliged
to depart. We suspected that Muazi had sent them orders to refuse us
food, that we might thus be prevented from going into the depopulated
district; but this may have been mere suspicion, the result of our
own uncharitable feelings.
We spent one night at Machambwe's village, and another at Chimbuzi's.
It is seldom that we can find the headman on first entering a
village. He gets out of the way till he has heard all about the
strangers, or he is actually out in the fields looking after his
farms. We once thought that when the headman came in from a visit of
inspection, with his spear, bow and arrows, they had been all taken
up for the occasion, and that he had all the while been hidden in
some hut slily watching till he heard that the strangers might be
trusted; but on listening to the details given by these men of the
appearances of the crops at different parts, and the astonishing
minuteness of the speakers' topography, we were persuaded that in
some cases we were wrong, and felt rather humiliated. Every knoll,
hill, mountain, and every peak on a range has a name; and so has
every watercourse, dell, and plain. In fact, every feature and
portion of the country is so minutely distinguished by appropriate
names, that it would take a lifetime to decipher their meaning. It
is not the want, but the superabundance of names that misleads
travellers, and the terms used are so multifarious that good scholars
will at times scarcely know more than the subject of conversation.
Though it is a little apart from the topic of the attention which the
headmen pay to agriculture, yet it may be here mentioned, while
speaking of the fulness of the language, that we have heard about a
score of words to indicate different varieties of gait--one walks
leaning forward, or backward, swaying from side to side, loungingly,
or smartly, swaggeringly, swinging the arms, or only one arm, head
down or up, or otherwise; each of these modes of walking was
expressed by a particular verb; and more words were used to designate
the different varieties of fools than we ever tried to count.
Mr. Moffat has translated the whole Bible into the language of the
Bechuana, and has diligently studied this tongue for the last forty-
four-years; and, though knowing far more of the language than any of
the natives who have been reared on the Mission-station of Kuruman,
he does not pretend to have mastered it fully even yet. However
copious it may be in terms of which we do not feel the necessity, it
is poor in others, as in abstract terms, and words used to describe
mental operations.
Our third day's march ended in the afternoon of the 27th September,
1863, at the village of Chinanga on the banks of a branch of the
Loangwa. A large, rounded mass of granite, a thousand feet high,
called Nombe rume, stand on the plain a few miles off. It is quite
remarkable, because it has so little vegetation on it. Several other
granitic hills stand near it, ornamented with trees, like most
heights of this country, and a heap of blue mountains appears away in
the north.
The effect of the piercing winds upon the men had never been got rid
of. Several had been unable to carry a load ever since we ascended
to the highlands; we had lost one, and another poor lad was so ill as
to cause us great anxiety. By waiting in this village, which was so
old that it was full of vermin, all became worse. Our European food
was entirely expended, and native meal, though finely ground, has so
many sharp angular particles in it, that it brought back dysentery,
from which we had suffered so much in May. We could scarcely obtain
food for the men. The headman of this village of Chinanga was off in
a foray against some people further north to supply slaves to the
traders expected along the slave route we had just left; and was
said, after having expelled the inhabitants, to be living in their
stockade, and devouring their corn. The conquered tribe had
purchased what was called a peace by presenting the conqueror with
three women.
This state of matters afforded us but a poor prospect of finding more
provisions in that direction than we could with great difficulty and
at enormous prices obtain here. But neither want of food, dysentery,
nor slave wars would have prevented our working our way round the
Lake in some other direction, had we had time; but we had received
orders from the Foreign Office to take the "Pioneer" down to the sea
in the previous April. The salaries of all the men in her were
positively "in any case to cease by the 31st of December."
We were said to be only ten days' distant from Lake Bemba. We might
speculate on a late rise of the river. A month or six weeks would
secure a geographical feat, but the rains were near. We had been
warned by different people that the rains were close at hand, and
that we should then be bogged and unable to travel. The flood in the
river might be an early one, or so small in volume as to give but one
chance of the "Pioneer" descending to the ocean. The Makololo too
were becoming dispirited by sickness and want of food, and were
naturally anxious to be back to their fields in time for sowing. But
in addition to all this and more, it was felt that it would not be
dealing honestly with the Government, were we, for the sake of a
little eclat, to risk the detention of the "Pioneer" up the river
during another year; so we decided to return; and though we had
afterwards the mortification to find that we were detained two full
months at the ship waiting for the flood which we expected
immediately after our arrival there, the chagrin was lessened by a
consciousness of having acted in a fair, honest, above-board manner
throughout.
On the night of the 29th of September a thief came to the sleeping-
place of our men and stole a leg of a goat. On complaining to the
deputy headman, he said that the thief had fled, but would be caught.
He suggested a fine, and offered a fowl and her eggs; but wishing
that the thief alone should be punished, it was advised that HE
should be found and fined. The Makololo thought it best to take the
fowl as a means of making the punishment certain. After settling
this matter on the last day of September, we commenced our return
journey. We had just the same time to go back to the ship, that we
had spent in coming to this point, and there is not much to interest
one in marching over the same ground a second time.
While on our journey north-west, a cheery old woman, who had once
been beautiful, but whose white hair now contrasted strongly with her
dark complexion, was working briskly in her garden as we passed. She
seemed to enjoy a hale, hearty old age. She saluted us with what
elsewhere would be called a good address; and, evidently conscious
that she deserved the epithet, "dark but comely," answered each of us
with a frank "Yes, my child." Another motherly-looking woman,
sitting by a well, began the conversation by "You are going to visit
Muazi, and you have come from afar, have you not?" But in general
women never speak to strangers unless spoken to, so anything said by
them attracts attention. Muazi once presented us with a basket of
corn. On hinting that we had no wife to grind our corn, his buxom
spouse struck in with roguish glee, and said, "I will grind it for
you; and leave Muazi, to accompany and cook for you in the land of
the setting sun." As a rule the women are modest and retiring in
their demeanour, and, without being oppressed with toil, show a great
deal of industry. The crops need about eight months' attention.
Then when the harvest is home, much labour is required to convert it
into food as porridge, or beer. The corn is pounded in a large
wooden mortar, like the ancient Egyptian one, with a pestle six feet
long and about four inches thick. The pounding is performed by two
or even three women at one mortar. Each, before delivering a blow
with her pestle, gives an upward jerk of the body, so as to put
strength into the stroke, and they keep exact time, so that two
pestles are never in the mortar at the same moment. The measured
thud, thud, thud, and the women standing at their vigorous work, are
associations inseparable from a prosperous African village. By the
operation of pounding, with the aid of a little water, the hard
outside scale or husk of the grain is removed, and the corn is made
fit for the millstone. The meal irritates the stomach unless cleared
from the husk; without considerable energy in the operator, the husk
sticks fast to the corn. Solomon thought that still more vigour than
is required to separate the hard husk or bran from wheat would fail
to separate "a fool from his folly." "Though thou shouldst bray a
fool in a mortar among wheat with a pestle, YET will not his
foolishness depart from him." The rainbow, in some parts, is called
the "pestle of the Barimo," or gods. Boys and girls, by constant
practice with the pestle, are able to plant stakes in the ground by a
somewhat similar action, in erecting a hut, so deftly that they never
miss the first hole made.
Let any one try by repeatedly jobbing a pole with all his force to
make a deep hole in the ground, and he will understand how difficult
it is always to strike it into the same spot.
As we were sleeping one night outside a hut, but near enough to hear
what was going on within, an anxious mother began to grind her corn
about two o'clock in the morning. "Ma," inquired a little girl, "why
grind in the dark?" Mamma advised sleep, and administered material
for a sweet dream to her darling, by saying, "I grind meal to buy a
cloth from the strangers, which will make you look a little lady."
An observer of these primitive races is struck continually with such
little trivial touches of genuine human nature.
The mill consists of a block of granite, syenite, or even mica
schist, fifteen or eighteen inches square and five or six thick, with
a piece of quartz or other hard rock about the size of a half brick,
one side of which has a convex surface, and fits into a concave
hollow in the larger and stationary stone. The workwoman kneeling,
grasps this upper millstone with both hands, and works it backwards
and forwards in the hollow of the lower millstone, in the same way
that a baker works his dough, when pressing it and pushing from him.
The weight of the person is brought to bear on the movable stone, and
while it is pressed and pushed forwards and backwards, one hand
supplies every now and then a little grain to be thus at first
bruised and then ground on the lower stone, which is placed on the
slope so that the meal when ground falls on to a skin or mat spread
for the purpose. This is perhaps the most primitive form of mill,
and anterior to that in oriental countries, where two women grind at
one mill, and may have been that used by Sarah of old when she
entertained the Angels.
On 2nd October we applied to Muazi for guides to take us straight
down to Chinsamba's at Mosapo, and thus cut off an angle, which we
should otherwise make, by going back to Kota-kota Bay. He replied
that his people knew the short way to Chinsamba's that we desired to
go, but that they all were afraid to venture there, on account of the
Zulus, or Mazitu. We therefore started back on our old route, and,
after three hours' march, found some Babisa in a village who promised
to lead us to Chinsamba.
We meet with these keen traders everywhere. They are easily known by
a line of horizontal cicatrices, each half an inch long, down the
middle of the forehead and chin. They often wear the hair collected
in a mass on the upper and back part of the head, while it is all
shaven off the forehead and temples. The Babisa and Waiau or Ajawa
heads have more of the round bullet-shape than those of the Manganja,
indicating a marked difference in character; the former people being
great traders and travellers, the latter being attached to home and
agriculture. The Manganja usually intrust their ivory to the Babisa
to be sold at the Coast, and complain that the returns made never
come up to the high prices which they hear so much about before it is
sent. In fact, by the time the Babisa return, the expenses of the
journey, in which they often spend a month or two at a place where
food abounds, usually eat up all the profits.
Our new companions were trading in tobacco, and had collected
quantities of the round balls, about the size of nine pounder shot,
into which it is formed. One of them owned a woman, whose child had
been sold that morning for tobacco. The mother followed him, weeping
silently, for hours along the way we went; she seemed to be well
known, for at several hamlets, the women spoke to her with evident
sympathy; we could do nothing to alleviate her sorrow--the child
would be kept until some slave-trader passed, and then sold for
calico. The different cases of slave-trading observed by us are
mentioned, in order to give a fair idea of its details.
We spent the first night, after leaving the slave route, at the
village of Nkoma, among a section of Manganja, called Machewa, or
Macheba, whose district extends to the Bua.
The next village at which we slept was also that of a Manganja smith.
It was a beautiful spot, shaded with tall euphorbia-trees. The
people at first fled, but after a short time returned, and ordered us
off to a stockade of Babisa, about a mile distant. We preferred to
remain in the smooth shady spot outside the hamlet, to being pent up
in a treeless stockade. Twenty or thirty men came dropping in, all
fully armed with bows and arrows, some of them were at least six feet
four in height, yet these giants were not ashamed to say, "We thought
that you were Mazitu, and, being afraid, ran away." Their orders to
us were evidently inspired by terror, and so must the refusal of the
headman to receive a cloth, or lend us a hut have been; but as we
never had the opportunity of realizing what feelings a successful
invasion would produce, we did not know whether to blame them or not.
The headman, a tall old smith, with an enormous, well-made knife of
his own workmanship, came quietly round, and, inspecting the shelter,
which, from there being abundance of long grass and bushes near, our
men put up for us in half an hour, gradually changed his tactics,
and, in the evening, presented us with a huge pot of porridge and a
deliciously well-cooked fowl, and made an apology for having been so
rude to strangers, and a lamentation that he had been so foolish as
to refuse the fine cloth we had offered. Another cloth was of course
presented, and we had the pleasure of parting good friends next day.
Our guide, who belonged to the stockade near to which we had slept,
declined to risk himself further than his home. While waiting to
hire another, Masiko attempted to purchase a goat, and had nearly
concluded the bargain, when the wife of the would-be seller came
forward, and said to her husband, "You appear as if you were
unmarried; selling a goat without consulting your wife; what an
insult to a woman! What sort of man are you?" Masiko urged the man,
saying, "Let us conclude the bargain, and never mind her;" but he
being better instructed, replied, "No, I have raised a host against
myself already," and refused.
We now pushed on to the east, so as to get down to the shores of the
Lake, and into the parts where we were known. The country was
beautiful, well wooded, and undulating, but the villages were all
deserted; and the flight of the people seemed to have been quite
recent, for the grain was standing in the corn-safes untouched. The
tobacco, though ripe, remained uncut in the gardens, and the whole
country was painfully quiet: the oppressive stillness quite unbroken
by the singing of birds, or the shrill calls of women watching their
corn.
On passing a beautiful village, called Bangwe, surrounded by shady
trees, and placed in a valley among mountains, we were admiring the
beauty of the situation, when some of the much dreaded Mazitu, with
their shields, ran out of the hamlet, from which we were a mile
distant. They began to scream to their companions to give us chase.
Without quickening our pace we walked on, and soon were in a wood,
through which the footpath we were following led. The first
intimation we had of the approaching Mazitu was given by the Johanna
man, Zachariah, who always lagged behind, running up, screaming as if
for his life. The bundles were all put in one place to be defended;
and Masiko and Dr. Livingstone walked a few paces back to meet the
coming foe. Masiko knelt down anxious to fire, but was ordered not
to do so. For a second or two dusky forms appeared among the trees,
and the Mazitu were asked, in their own tongue, "What do you want?"
Masiko adding, "What do you say?" No answer was given, but the dark
shade in the forest vanished. They had evidently taken us for
natives, and the sight of a white man was sufficient to put them to
flight. Had we been nearer the Coast, where the people are
accustomed to the slave-trade, we should have found this affair a
more difficult one to deal with; but, as a rule, the people of the
interior are much more mild in character than those on the confines
of civilization.
The above very small adventure was all the danger we were aware of in
this journey; but a report was spread from the Portuguese villages on
the Zambesi, similar to several rumours that had been raised before,
that Dr. Livingstone had been murdered by the Makololo; and very
unfortunately the report reached England before it could be
contradicted.
One benefit arose from the Mazitu adventure. Zachariah, and others
who had too often to be reproved for lagging behind, now took their
places in the front rank; and we had no difficulty in making very
long marches for several days, for all believed that the Mazitu would
follow our footsteps, and attack us while we slept.
A party of Babisa tobacco-traders came from the N.W. to Molamba,
while we were there; and one of them asserted several times that the
Loapula, after emerging from Moelo, received the Lulua, and then
flowed into Lake Mofu, and thence into Tanganyika; and from the last-
named Lake into the sea. This is the native idea of the geography of
the interior; and, to test the general knowledge of our informant, we
asked him about our acquaintances in Londa; as Moene, Katema, Shinde
or Shinte, who live south-west of the rivers mentioned, and found
that our friends there were perfectly well-known to him and to others
of these travelled natives. In the evening two of the Babisa came
in, and reported that the Mazitu had followed us to the village
called Chigaragara, at which we slept at the bottom of the descent.
The whole party of traders set off at once, though the sun had set.
We ourselves had given rise to the report, for the women of
Chigaragara, supposing us in the distance to be Mazitu, fled, with
all their household utensils on their heads, and had no opportunity
afterwards of finding out their mistake. We spent the night where we
were, and next morning, declining Nkomo's entreaty to go and kill
elephants, took our course along the shores of the Lake southwards.
We have only been at the Lake at one season of the year: then the
wind blows strongly from the east, and indeed this is its prevailing
direction hence to the Orange River; a north or a south wind is rare,
and seldom lasts more than three days. As the breeze now blew over a
large body of water, towards us, it was delightful; but when facing
it on the table-land it was so strong as materially to impede our
progress, and added considerably to the labour of travelling. Here
it brought large quantities of the plant (Vallisneriae), from which
the natives extract salt by burning, and which, if chewed, at once
shows its saline properties by the taste. Clouds of the kungo, or
edible midges, floated on the Lake, and many rested on the bushes on
land.
The reeds along the shores of the Lake were still crowded with
fugitives, and a great loss of life must since have taken place; for,
after the corn they had brought with them was expended, famine would
ensue. Even now we passed many women and children digging up the
roots, about the size of peas, of an aromatic grass; and their wasted
forms showed that this poor hard fare was to allay, if possible, the
pangs of hunger. The babies at the breast crowed to us as we passed,
their mothers kneeling and grubbing for the roots; the poor little
things still drawing nourishment from the natural fountain were
unconscious of that sinking of heart which their parents must have
felt in knowing that the supply for the little ones must soon fail.
No one would sell a bit of food to us: fishermen, even, would not
part with the produce of their nets, except in exchange for some
other kind of food. Numbers of newly-made graves showed that many
had already perished, and hundreds were so emaciated that they had
the appearance of human skeletons swathed in brown and wrinkled
leather. In passing mile after mile, marked with these sad proofs
that "man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn," one
experiences an overpowering sense of helplessness to alleviate human
woe, and breathes a silent prayer to the Almighty to hasten the good
time coming when "man and man the world o'er, shall brothers be for
all that." One small redeeming consideration in all this misery
could not but be felt; these ills were inflicted by heathen Mazitu,
and not by, or for, those who say to Him who is higher than the
highest, "We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge."
We crossed the Mokole, rested at Chitanda, and then left the Lake,
and struck away N.W. to Chinsamba's. Our companions, who were so
much oppressed by the rarefied air of the plateau, still showed signs
of exhaustion, though now only 1300 feet above the sea, and did not
recover flesh and spirits till we again entered the Lower Shire
Valley, which is of so small an altitude, that, without simultaneous
observations with the barometer there and on the sea-coast, the
difference would not be appreciable.
On a large plain on which we spent one night, we had the company of
eighty tobacco traders on their way from Kasungu to Chinsamba's. The
Mazitu had attacked and killed two of them, near the spot where the
Zulus fled from us without answering our questions. The traders were
now so frightened that, instead of making a straight course with us,
they set off by night to follow the shores of the Lake to Tsenga, and
then turn west. It is the sight of shields, or guns that inspires
terror. The bowmen feel perfectly helpless when the enemy comes with
even the small protection the skin shield affords, or attacks them in
the open field with guns. They may shoot a few arrows, but they are
such poor shots that ten to one if they hit. The only thing that
makes the arrow formidable is the poison; for if the poisoned barb
goes in nothing can save the wounded. A bow is in use in the lower
end of Lake Nyassa, but is more common in the Maravi country, from
six to eight inches broad, which is intended to be used as a shield
as well as a bow; but we never saw one with the mark on it of an
enemy's arrow. It certainly is no match for the Zulu shield, which
is between four and five feet long, of an oval shape, and about two
feet broad. So great is the terror this shield inspires that we
sometimes doubted whether the Mazitu here were Zulus at all, and
suspected that the people of the country took advantage of that fear,
and, assuming shields, pretended to belong to that nation.
On the 11th October we arrived at the stockade of Chinsamba in
Mosapo, and had reason to be very well satisfied with his kindness.
A paraffin candle was in his eyes the height of luxury, and the
ability to make a light instantaneously by a lucifer match, a marvel
that struck him with wonder. He brought all his relatives in
different groups to see the strange sights,--instantaneous fire-
making, and a light, without the annoyance of having fire and smoke
in the middle of the floor. When they wish to look for anything in
the dark, a wisp of dried grass is lighted.
Chinsamba gave us a great deal of his company during our visits. As
we have often remarked in other cases, a chief has a great deal to
attend to in guiding the affairs of his people. He is consulted on
all occasions, and gives his advice in a stream of words, which show
a very intimate acquaintance with the topography of his district; he
knows every rood cultivated, every weir put in the river, every
hunting-net, loom, gorge, and every child of his tribe. Any addition
made to the number of these latter is notified to him; and he sends
thanks and compliments to the parents.
The presents which, following the custom of the country, we gave to
every headman, where we either spent a night or a longer period,
varied from four to eight yards of calico. We had some Manchester
cloths made in imitation of the native manufactured robes of the West
Coast, each worth five or six shillings. To the more important of
the chiefs, for calico we substituted one of these strong gaudy
dresses, iron spoons, a knife, needles, a tin dish, or pannikin, and
found these presents to be valued more than three times their value
in cloth would have been. Eight or ten shillings' worth gave
abundant satisfaction to the greediest; but this is to be understood
as the prime cost of the articles, and a trader would sometimes have
estimated similar generosity as equal to from 30 to 50 pounds. In
some cases the presents we gave exceeded the value of what was
received in return; in others the excess of generosity was on the
native side.
We never asked for leave to pass through the country; we simply told
where we were going, and asked for guides; if they were refused, or
if they demanded payment beforehand, we requested to be put into the
beginning of the path, and said that we were sorry we could not agree
about the guides, and usually they and we started together. Greater
care would be required on entering the Mazitu or Zulu country, for
there the Government extends over very large districts, while among
the Manganja each little district is independent of every other. The
people here have not adopted the exacting system of the Banyai, or of
the people whose country was traversed by Speke and Grant.
In our way back from Chinsamba's to Chembi's and from his village to
Nkwinda's, and thence to Katosa's, we only saw the people working in
their gardens, near to the stockades. These strongholds were
strengthened with branches of acacias, covered with strong hooked
thorns; and were all crowded with people. The air was now clearer
than when we went north, and we could see the hills of Kirk's Range
five or six miles to the west of our path. The sun struck very hot,
and the men felt it most in their feet. Every one who could get a
bit of goatskin made it into a pair of sandals.
While sitting at Nkwinda's, a man behind the court hedge-wall said,
with great apparent glee, that an Arab slaving party on the other
side of the confluence of the Shire and Lake were "giving readily two
fathoms of calico for a boy, and two and a half for a girl; never saw
trade so brisk, no haggling at all." This party was purchasing for
the supply of the ocean slave-trade. One of the evils of this
traffic is that it profits by every calamity that happens in a
country. The slave-trader naturally reaps advantage from every
disorder, and though in the present case some lives may have been
saved that otherwise would have perished, as a rule he intensifies
hatreds, and aggravates wars between the tribes, because the more
they fight and vanquish each other the richer his harvest becomes.
Where slaving and cattle are unknown the people live in peace. As we
sat leaning against that hedge, and listened to the harangue of the
slave-trader's agent, it glanced across our mind that this was a
terrible world; the best in it unable, from conscious imperfections,
to say to the worst "Stand by! for I am holier than thou." The
slave-trader, imbued no doubt with certain kindly feelings, yet
pursuing a calling which makes him a fair specimen of a human fiend,
stands grouped with those by whom the slave-traders are employed, and
with all the workers of sin and misery in more highly-favoured lands,
an awful picture to the All-seing Eye.
We arrived at Katosa's village on the 15th October, and found about
thirty young men and boys in slave-sticks. They had been bought by
other agents of the Arab slavers, still on the east side of the
Shire. They were resting in the village, and their owners soon
removed them. The weight of the goree seemed very annoying when they
tried to sleep. This taming instrument is kept on, until the party
has crossed several rivers and all hope of escape has vanished from
the captive's mind.
On explaining to Katosa the injury he was doing in selling his people
as slaves, he assured us that those whom we had seen belonged to the
Arabs, and added that he had far too few people already. He said he
had been living in peace at the lakelet Pamalombe; that the Ajawa, or
Machinga, under Kainka and Karamba, and a body of Babisa, under
Maonga, had induced him to ferry them over the Shire; that they had
lived for a considerable time at his expense, and at last stole his
sheep, which induced him to make his escape to the place where he now
dwelt, and in this flight he had lost many of his people. His
account of the usual conduct of the Ajawa quite agrees with what
these people have narrated themselves, and gives but a low idea of
their moral tone. They have repeatedly broken all the laws of
hospitality by living for months on the bounty of the Manganja, and
then, by a sudden uprising, overcoming their hosts, and killing or
chasing them out of their inheritances. The secret of their success
is the possession of firearms. There were several of these Ajawa
here again, and on our arrival they proposed to Katosa that they
should leave; but he replied that they need not be afraid of us.
They had red beads strung so thickly on their hair that at a little
distance they appeared to have on red caps. It is curious that the
taste for red hair should be so general among the Africans here and
further north; in the south black mica, called Sebilo, and even soot
are used to deepen the colour of the hair; here many smear the head
with red-ochre, others plait the inner bark of a tree stained red
into it; and a red powder called Mukuru is employed, which some say
is obtained from the ground, and others from the roots of a tree.
It having been doubted whether sugar-cane is indigenous to this
country or not, we employed Katosa to procure the two varieties
commonly cultivated, with the intention of conveying them to Johanna.
One is yellow, and the other, like what we observed in the Barotse
Valley, is variegated with dark red and yellow patches, or all red.
We have seen it "arrow," or blossom. Bamboos also run to seed, and
the people are said to use the seed as food. The sugar-cane has
native names, which would lead us to believe it to be indigenous.
Here it is called Zimbi, further south Mesari, and in the centre of
the country Meshuati. Anything introduced in recent times, as maize,
superior cotton, or cassava, has a name implying its foreign origin.
Katosa's village was embowered among gigantic trees of fine timber:
several caffiaceous bushes, with berries closely resembling those of
the common coffee, grew near, but no use had ever been made of them.
There are several cinchonaceous trees also in the country; and some
of the wild fruits are so good as to cause a feeling of regret that
they have not been improved by cultivation, or whatever else brought
ours to their present perfection. Katosa lamented that this locality
was so inferior to his former place at Pamalombe; there he had maize
at the different stages of growth throughout the year. To us,
however, he seemed, by digging holes, and taking advantage of the
moisture beneath, to have succeeded pretty well in raising crops at
this the driest time. The Makololo remarked that "here the maize had
no season,"--meaning that the whole year was proper for its growth
and ripening. By irrigation a succession of crops of grain might be
raised anywhere within the south intertropical region of Africa.
When we were with Motunda, on the 20th October, he told us frankly
that all the native provisions were hidden in Kirk's Range, and his
village being the last place where a supply of grain could be
purchased before we reached the ship, we waited till he had sent to
his hidden stores. The upland country, beyond the mountains now on
our right, is called Deza, and is inhabited by Maravi, who are only
another tribe of Manganja. The paramount chief is called Kabambe,
and he, having never been visited by war, lives in peace and plenty.
Goats and sheep thrive; and Nyango, the chieftainess further to the
south, has herds of horned cattle. The country being elevated is
said to be cold, and there are large grassy plains on it which are
destitute of trees. The Maravi are reported to be brave, and good
marksmen with the bow; but, throughout all the country we have
traversed, guns are enabling the trading tribes to overcome the
agricultural and manufacturing classes.
On the ascent at the end of the valley just opposite Mount Mvai, we
looked back for a moment to impress the beauties of the grand vale on
our memory. The heat of the sun was now excessive, and Masiko,
thinking that it was overpowering, proposed to send forward to the
ship and get a hammock, in which to carry any one who might knock up.
He was truly kind and considerate. Dr. Livingstone having fallen
asleep after a fatiguing march, a hole in the roof of the hut he was
in allowed the sun to beat on his head, and caused a splitting
headache and deafness: while he was nearly insensible, he felt
Masiko repeatedly lift him back to the bed off which he had rolled,
and cover him up.
On the 24th we were again in Banda, at the village of Chasundu, and
could now see clearly the hot valley in which the Shire flows, and
the mountains of the Manganja beyond to our south-east. Instead of
following the road by which we had come, we resolved to go south
along the Lesungwe, which rises at Zunje, a peak on the same ridge as
Mvai, and a part of Kirk's Range, which bounds the country of the
Maravi on our west. This is about the limit of the beat of the
Portuguese native traders, and it is but recently that, following our
footsteps, they have come so far. It is not likely that their
enterprise will lead them further north, for Chasundu informed us
that the Babisa under-sell the agents from Tette. He had tried to
deal with the latter when they first came; but they offered only ten
fathoms of calico for a tusk, for which the Babisa gave him twenty
fathoms and a little powder. Ivory was brought to us for sale again
and again, and, as far as we could judge, the price expected would be
about one yard of calico per pound, or possibly more, for there is no
scale of prices known. The rule seems to be that buyer and seller
shall spend a good deal of time in trying to cheat each other before
coming to any conclusion over a bargain.
We found the Lesungwe a fine stream near its source, and about forty
feet wide and knee-deep, when joined by the Lekudzi, which comes down
from the Maravi country.
Guinea-fowl abounded, but no grain could be purchased, for the people
had cultivated only the holmes along the banks with maize and
pumpkins. Time enough had not elapsed since the slave-trader's
invasion, and destruction of their stores, for them to raise crops of
grain on the adjacent lands. To deal with them for a few heads of
maize was the hungry bargaining with the famished, so we hastened on
southwards as fast as the excessive heat would allow us. It was
impossible to march in the middle of the day, the heat was so
intolerable; and we could not go on at night, because, if we had
chanced to meet any of the inhabitants, we should have been taken for
marauders.
We had now thunder every afternoon; but while occasional showers
seemed to fall at different parts, none fell on us. The air was
deliciously clear, and revealed all the landscape covered everywhere
with forest, and bounded by beautiful mountains. On the 31st October
we reached the Mukuru-Madse, after having travelled 660 geographical
miles, or 760 English miles in a straight line. This was
accomplished in fifty-five travelling days, twelve miles per diem on
an average. If the numerous bendings and windings, and ups and downs
of the paths could have been measured too, the distance would have
been found at least fifteen miles a day.
The night we slept at the Mukuru-Madse it thundered heavily, but, as
this had been the case every afternoon, and no rain had followed, we
erected no shelter, but during this night a pouring rain came on.
When very tired a man feels determined to sleep in spite of
everything, and the sound of dropping water is said to be conducive
to slumber, but that does not refer to an African storm. If, when
half asleep in spite of a heavy shower on the back of the head, he
unconsciously turns on his side, the drops from the branches make
such capital shots into his ear, that the brain rings again.
We were off next morning, the 1st of November, as soon as the day
dawned. In walking about seven miles to the ship, our clothes were
thoroughly dried by the hot sun, and an attack of fever followed. We
relate this little incident to point out the almost certain
consequence of getting wet in this climate, and allowing the clothes
to dry on the person. Even if we walk in the mornings when the dew
is on the grass, and only get our feet and legs wet, a very uneasy
feeling and partial fever with pains in the limbs ensue, and continue
till the march onwards bathes them in perspiration. Had Bishop
Mackenzie been aware of this, which, before experience alone had
taught us, entailed many a severe lesson, we know no earthly reason
why his valuable life might not have been spared. The difference
between getting the clothes soaked in England and in Africa is this:
in the cold climate the patient is compelled, or, at any rate,
warned, by discomfort to resort at once to a change of raiment; while
in Africa it is cooling and rather pleasant to allow the clothes to
dry on the person. A Missionary in proportion as he possesses an
athletic frame, hardened by manly exercises, in addition to his other
qualifications, will excel him who is not favoured with such bodily
endowments; but in a hot climate efficiency mainly depends on
husbanding the resources. He must never forget that, in the tropics,
he is an exotic plant.
CHAPTER XV.
Confidence of natives--Bishop Tozer--Withdrawal of the Mission party-
-The English leave--Hazardous voyage to Mosambique--Dr. Livingstone's
voyage to Bombay--Return to England.
We were delighted and thankful to find all those left at the ship in
good health, and that from the employments in which they had been
occupied they had suffered less from fever than usual during our
absence. My companion, Thomas Ward, the steward, after having
performed his part in the march right bravely, rejoined his comrades
stronger than he had ever been before.
An Ajawa chief, named Kapeni, had so much confidence in the English
name that he, with most of his people, visited the ship; and asserted
that nothing would give his countrymen greater pleasure than to
receive the associates of Bishop Mackenzie as their teachers. This
declaration, coupled with the subsequent conduct of the Ajawa, was
very gratifying, inasmuch as it was clear that no umbrage had been
taken at the check which the Bishop had given to their slaving; their
consciences had told them that the course he had pursued was right.
When we returned, the contrast between the vegetation about Muazi's
and that near the ship was very striking. We had come so quickly
down, that while on the plateau in latitude 12 degrees S., the young
leaves had in many cases passed from the pink or other colour they
have on first coming out to the light fresh green which succeeds it,
here, on the borders of 16 degrees S., or from 150 to 180 miles
distant, the trees were still bare, the grey colour of the bark
predominating over every other hue. The trees in the tropics here
have a very well-marked annual rest. On the Rovuma even, which is
only about ten degrees from the equator, in September the slopes up
from the river some sixty miles inland were of a light ashy-grey
colour; and on ascending them, we found that the majority of the
trees were without leaves; those of the bamboo even lay crisp and
crumpled on the ground. As the sun is usually hot by day, even in
the winter, this withering process may be owing to the cool nights;
Africa differing so much from Central India in the fact that, in
Africa, however hot the day may be, the air generally cools down
sufficiently by the early morning watches to render a covering or
even a blanket agreeable.
The first fortnight after our return to the ship was employed in the
delightful process of resting, to appreciate which a man must have
gone through great exertions. In our case the muscles of the limbs
were as hard as boards, and not an ounce of fat existed on any part
of the body. We now had frequent showers; but, these being only the
earlier rains, the result on the rise of the river was but a few
inches. The effect of these rains on the surrounding scenery was
beautiful in the extreme. All trace of the dry season was soon
obliterated, and hills and mountains from base to summit were covered
with a mantle of living green. The sun passed us on his way south
without causing a flood, so all our hopes of a release were centred
on his return towards the Equator, when, as a rule, the waters of
inundation are made to flow. Up to this time the rains descended
simply to water the earth, fill the pools, and make ready for the
grand overflow for which we had still to wait six weeks. It is of no
use to conceal that we waited with much chagrin; for had we not been
forced to return from the highlands west of Nyassa we might have
visited Lake Bemba; but unavailing regrets are poor employment for
the mind; so we banished them to the best of our power.
About the middle of December, 1863, we were informed that Bishop
Mackenzie's successor, after spending a few months on the top of a
mountain about as high as Ben Nevis in Scotland, at the mouth of the
Shire, where there were few or no people to be taught, had determined
to leave the country. This unfortunate decision was communicated to
us at the same time that six of the boys reared by Bishop Mackenzie
were sent back into heathenism. The boys were taken to a place about
seven miles from the ship, but immediately found their way up to us.
We told them that if they wished to remain in the country they had
better so arrange at once, for we were soon to leave. The sequel
will show their choice.
As soon as the death of Bishop Mackenzie was known at the Cape, Dr.
Gray, the excellent Bishop there, proceeded at once to England, with
a view of securing an early appointment of another head to the
Mission, which in its origin owed so much to his zeal for the spread
of the gospel among the heathen, and whose interests he had
continually at heart. About the middle of 1862 we heard that Dr.
Gray's efforts had been successful, and that another clergyman would
soon take the place of our departed friend. This pleasing
intelligence was exceedingly cheering to the Missionaries, and
gratifying also to the members of the Expedition. About the
beginning of 1863 the new Bishop arrived at the mouth of the river in
a man-of-war, and after some delay proceeded inland. The Bishop of
the Cape had taken a voyage home at considerable inconvenience to
himself, for the sole object of promoting this Mission to the
heathen; and it was somehow expected that the man he would secure
would be an image of himself; and we must say, that whatever others,
from the representations that have gone abroad, may think of his
character, we invariably found Dr. Gray to be a true, warm-hearted
promoter of the welfare of his fellow-men; a man whose courage and
zeal have provoked very many to good works.
It was hoped that the presence of a new head to the Mission would
infuse new energy and life into the small band of Missionaries, whose
ranks had been thinned by death; and who, though discouraged by the
disasters which the slave war and famine had induced, and also
dispirited by the depressing influences of a low and unhealthy
position in the swampy Shire Valley, were yet bravely holding out
till the much-needed moral and material aid should arrive.
We believe that we are uttering the sentiments of many devout members
of different sections of Christians, when we say, it was a pity that
the Mission of the Universities was abandoned. The ground had been
consecrated in the truest sense by the lives of those brave men who
first occupied it. In bare justice to Bishop Mackenzie, who was the
first to fall, it must be said, that the repudiation of all he had
done, and the sudden abandonment of all that had cost so much life
and money to secure, was a serious line of conduct for one so
unversed in Missionary operations as his successor, to inaugurate.
It would have been no more than fair that Bishop Tozer, before
winding up the affairs of the Mission, should actually have examined
the highlands of the Upper Shire; he would thus have gratified the
associates of his predecessor, who believed that the highlands had
never had a fair trial, and he would have gained from personal
observation a more accurate knowledge of the country and the people
than he could possibly have become possessed of by information
gathered chiefly on the coast. With this examination, rather than
with a stay of a few months on the humid, dripping top of misty
Morambala, we should have felt much more satisfied.
In January, 1864, the natives all confidently asserted that at next
full moon the river would have its great and permanent flood. It had
several times risen as much as a foot, but fell again as suddenly.
It was curious that their observation coincided exactly with ours,
that the flood of inundation happens when the sun comes overhead on
his way back to the Equator. We mention this more minutely because,
from the observation of several years, we believe that in this way
the inundation of the Nile is to be explained. On the 19th the Shire
suddenly rose several feet, and we started at once; and stopping only
for a short time at Chibisa's to bid adieu to the Ajawa and Makololo,
who had been extremely useful to us of late in supplying maize and
fresh provisions, we hastened on our way to the ocean. In order to
keep a steerage way on the "Pioneer," we had to go quicker than the
stream, and unfortunately carried away her rudder in passing suddenly
round a bank. The delay required for the repairs prevented our
reaching Morambala till the 2nd of February.
The flood-water ran into a marsh some miles above the mountain, and
became as black as ink; and when it returned again to the river
emitted so strong an effluvium of sulphuretted hydrogen, that one
could not forget for an instant that the air was most offensive. The
natives said this stench did not produce disease. We spent one night
in it, and suffered no ill effects, though we fully expected an
attack of fever. Next morning every particle of white paint on both
ships was so deeply blackened, that it could not be cleaned by
scrubbing with soap and water. The brass was all turned to a bronze
colour, and even the iron and ropes had taken a new tint. This is an
additional proof that malaria and offensive effluvia are not always
companions. We did not suffer more from fever in the mangrove
swamps, where we inhaled so much of the heavy mousey smell that it
was distinguishable in the odour of our shirts and flannels, than we
did elsewhere.
We tarried in the foul and blackening emanations from the marsh
because we had agreed to receive on board about thirty poor orphan
boys and girls, and a few helpless widows whom Bishop Mackenzie had
attached to his Mission. All who were able to support themselves had
been encouraged by the Missionaries to do so by cultivating the
ground, and they now formed a little free community. But the boys
and girls who were only from seven to twelve years of age, and
orphans without any one to help them, could not be abandoned without
bringing odium on the English name. The effect of an outcry by some
persons in England, who knew nothing of the circumstances in which
Bishop Mackenzie was placed, and who certainly had not given up their
own right of appeal to the sword of the magistrate, was, that the new
head of the Mission had gone to extremes in the opposite direction
from his predecessor; not even protesting against the one monstrous
evil of the country, the slave-trade. We believed that we ought to
leave the English name in the same good repute among the natives that
we had found it; and in removing the poor creatures, who had lived
with Mackenzie as children with a father, to a land where the
education he began would be completed, we had the aid and sympathy of
the best of the Portuguese, and of the whole population. The
difference between shipping slaves and receiving these free orphans
struck us as they came on board. As soon as permission to embark was
given, the rush into the boat nearly swamped her--their eagerness to
be safe on the "Pioneer's" deck had to be repressed.
Bishop Tozer had already left for Quillimane when we took these
people and the last of the Universities' Missionaries on board and
proceeded to the Zambesi. It was in high flood. We have always
spoken of this river as if at its lowest, for fear lest we should
convey an exaggerated impression of its capabilities for navigation.
Instead of from five to fifteen feet, it was now from fifteen to
thirty feet, or more, deep. All the sandbanks and many of the
islands had disappeared, and before us rolled a river capable, as one
of our naval friends thought, of carrying a gunboat. Some of the
sandy islands are annually swept away, and the quantities of sand
carried down are prodigious.
The process by which a delta, extending eighty or one hundred miles
from the sea, has been formed may be seen going on at the present
day--the coarser particles of sand are driven out into the ocean,
just in the same way as we see they are over banks in the beds of
torrents. The finer portions are caught by the returning tide, and,
accumulating by successive ebbs and flows, become, with the decaying
vegetation, arrested by the mangrove roots. The influence of the
tide in bringing back the finer particles gives the sea near the
mouth of the Zambesi a clean and sandy bottom. This process has been
going on for ages, and as the delta has enlarged eastwards, the river
has always kept a channel for itself behind. Wherever we see an
island all sand, or with only one layer of mud in it, we know it is
one of recent formation, and that it may be swept away at any time by
a flood; while those islands which are all of mud are the more
ancient, having in fact existed ever since the time when the ebbing
and flowing tides originally formed them as parts of the delta. This
mud resists the action of the river wonderfully. It is a kind of
clay on which the eroding power of water has little effect. Were
maps made, showing which banks and which islands are liable to
erosion, it would go far to settle where the annual change of the
channel would take place; and, were a few stakes driven in year by
year to guide the water in its course, the river might be made of
considerable commercial value in the hands of any energetic European
nation. No canal or railway would ever be thought of for this part
of Africa. A few improvements would make the Zambesi a ready means
of transit for all the trade that, with a population thinned by
Portuguese slaving, will ever be developed in our day. Here there is
no instance on record of the natives flocking in thousands to the
colony, as they did at Natal, and even to the Arabs on Lake Nyassa.
This keeping aloof renders it unlikely that in Portuguese hands the
Zambesi will ever be of any more value to the world than it has been.
After a hurried visit to Senna, in order to settle with Major Sicard
and Senhor Ferrao for supplies we had drawn thence after the
depopulation of the Shire, we proceeded down to the Zambesi's mouth,
and were fortunate in meeting, on the 13th February, with H.M.S.
"Orestes." She was joined next day by H.M.S. "Ariel." The "Orestes"
took the "Pioneer," and the "Ariel" the "Lady Nyassa" in tow, for
Mosambique. On the 16th a circular storm proved the sea-going
qualities of the "Lady of the Lake;" for on this day a hurricane
struck the "Ariel," and drove her nearly backwards at a rate of six
knots. The towing hawser wound round her screw and stopped her
engines. No sooner had she recovered from this shock than she was
again taken aback on the other tack, and driven stem on towards the
"Lady Nyassa's" broadside. We who were on board the little vessel
saw no chance of escape unless the crew of the "Ariel" should think
of heaving ropes when the big ship went over us; but she glided past
our bow, and we breathed freely again. We had now an opportunity of
witnessing man-of-war seamanship. Captain Chapman, though his
engines were disabled, did not think of abandoning us in the heavy
gale, but crossed the bows of the "Lady Nyassa" again and again,
dropping a cask with a line by which to give us another hawser. We
might never have picked it up, had not a Krooman jumped overboard and
fastened a second line to the cask; and then we drew the hawser on
board, and were again in tow. During the whole time of the hurricane
the little vessel behaved admirably, and never shipped a single green
sea. When the "Ariel" pitched forwards we could see a large part of
her bottom, and when her stern went down we could see all her deck.
A boat, hung at her stern davits, was stove in by the waves. The
officers on board the "Ariel" thought that it was all over with us:
we imagined that they were suffering more than we were. Nautical men
may suppose that this was a serious storm only to landsmen; but the
"Orestes," which was once in sight, and at another time forty miles
off during the same gale, split eighteen sails; and the "Pioneer" had
to be lightened of parts of a sugar-mill she was carrying; her round-
house was washed away, and the cabin was frequently knee-deep in
water. When the "Orestes" came into Mosambique harbour nine days
after our arrival there, our vessel, not being anchored close to the
"Ariel," for we had run in under the lee of the fort, led to the
surmise on board the "Orestes" that we had gone to the bottom.
Captain Chapman and his officers pronounced the "Lady Nyassa" to be
the finest little sea-boat they had ever seen. She certainly was a
contrast to the "Ma-Robert," and did great credit to her builders,
Ted and Macgregor of Glasgow. We can but regret that she was not
employed on the Lake after which she was named, and for which she was
intended and was so well adapted.
What struck us most, during the trip from the Zambesi to Mosambique,
was the admirable way in which Captain Chapman handled the "Ariel" in
the heavy sea of the hurricane; the promptitude and skill with which,
when we had broken three hawsers, others were passed to us by the
rapid evolutions of a big ship round a little one; and the ready
appliance of means shown in cutting the hawser off the screw nine
feet under water with long chisels made for the occasion; a task
which it took three days to accomplish. Captain Chapman very kindly
invited us on board the "Ariel," and we accepted his hospitality
after the weather had moderated.
The little vessel was hauled through and against the huge seas with
such force that two hawsers measuring eleven inches each in
circumference parted. Many of the blows we received from the billows
made every plate quiver from stem to stern, and the motion was so
quick that we had to hold on continually to avoid being tossed from
one side to the other or into the sea. Ten of the late Bishop's
flock whom we had on board became so sick and helpless that do what
we could to aid them they were so very much in the way that the idea
broke in upon us, that the close packing resorted to by slavers is
one of the necessities of the traffic. If this is so, it would
account for the fact that even when the trade was legal the same
injurious custom was common, if not universal. If, instead of ten
such passengers, we had been carrying two hundred, with the wind
driving the rain and spray, as by night it did, nearly as hard as
hail against our faces, and nothing whatever to be seen to windward
but the occasional gleam of the crest of a wave, and no sound heard
save the whistling of the storm through the rigging, it would have
been absolutely necessary for the working of the ship and safety of
the whole that the live cargo should all have been stowed down below,
whatever might have been the consequences.
Having delivered the "Pioneer" over to the Navy, she was towed down
to the Cape by Captain Forsyth of the "Valorous," and after
examination it was declared that with repairs to the amount of 300
pounds she would be as serviceable as ever. Those of the Bishop's
flock whom we had on board were kindly allowed a passage to the Cape.
The boys went in the "Orestes," and we are glad of the opportunity to
record our heartfelt thanks to Captains Forsyth, Gardner, and Chapman
for rendering us, at various times, every aid in their power. Mr.
Waller went in the "Pioneer," and continued his generous services to
all connected with the Mission, whether white or black, till they
were no longer needed; and we must say that his conduct to them
throughout was truly noble, and worthy of the highest praise.
After beaching the "Lady Nyassa" at Caboceira, opposite the house of
a Portuguese gentleman well known to all Englishmen, Joao da Costa
Soares, we put in brine cocks, and cleaned and painted her bottom.
Mr. Soares appeared to us to have been very much vilified in a
publication in England a few years ago; our experience proved him to
be extremely kind and obliging. All the members of the Expedition
who passed Mosambique were unanimous in extolling his generosity and,
from the general testimony of English visitors in his favour, we very
much regret that his character was so grievously misrepresented. To
the authorities at Mosambique our thanks are also due for obliging
accommodation; and though we differ entirely from the Portuguese
officials as to the light in which we regard the slave-trade, we
trust our exposure of the system, in which unfortunately they are
engaged, will not be understood as indicating any want of kindly
feeling and good will to them personally. Senhor Canto e Castro, who
arrived at Mosambique two days after our departure to take the office
of Governor-General, was well known to us in Angola. We lived two
months in his house when he was Commandant of Golungo Alto; and,
knowing him thoroughly, believe that no better man could have been
selected for the office. We trust that his good principles may
enable him to withstand the temptations of his position; but we
should be sorry to have ours tried in a den of slave-traders with the
miserable pittance he receives for his support.
While at Mosambique, a species of Pedalia called by Mr. Soares
Dadeleira, and by the natives--from its resemblance to Gerzilin, or
sesamum--"wild sesamum," was shown to us, and is said to be well
known among native nurses as a very gentle and tasteless aperient for
children. A few leaves of it are stirred in a cup of cold water for
eight or nine seconds, and a couple of teaspoonfuls of the liquid
given as a dose. The leaves form a sort of mucilage in the water by
longer stirring, which is said to have diuretic properties besides.
On the 16th April we steamed out from Mosambique; and, the currents
being in our favour, in a week reached Zanzibar. Here we experienced
much hospitality from our countrymen, and especially from Dr. Seward,
then acting consul and political agent for Colonel Playfair.
Dr. Seward was very doubtful if we could reach Bombay before what is
called the break of the monsoon took place. This break occurs
usually between the end of May and the 12th of June. The wind still
blows from Africa to India, but with so much violence, and with such
a murky atmosphere, that few or no observations for position can be
taken. We were, however, at the time very anxious to dispose of the
"Lady Nyassa," and, the only market we could reach being Bombay, we
resolved to run the risk of getting there before the stormy period
commenced; and, after taking fourteen tons of coal on board, we
started on the 30th April from Zanzibar.
Our complement consisted of seven native Zambesians, two boys, and
four Europeans; namely, one stoker, one sailor, one carpenter, whose
names have been already mentioned, and Dr. Livingstone, as navigator.
The "Lady Nyassa" had shown herself to be a good sea-boat. The
natives had proved themselves capital sailors, though before
volunteering not one of them had ever seen the sea. They were not
picked men, but, on paying a dozen whom we had in our employment for
fifteen months, they were taken at random from several hundreds who
offered to accompany us. Their wages were ten shillings per mensem,
and it was curious to observe, that so eager were they to do their
duty, that only one of them lay down from sea-sickness during the
whole voyage. They took in and set sail very cleverly in a short
time, and would climb out along a boom, reeve a rope through the
block, and come back with the rope in their teeth, though at each
lurch the performer was dipped in the sea. The sailor and carpenter,
though anxious to do their utmost, had a week's severe illness each,
and were unfit for duty.
It is pleasant enough to take the wheel for an hour or two, or even
for a watch, but when it comes to be for every alternate four hours,
it is utterly wearisome. We set our black men to steer, showing them
which arm of the compass needle was to be kept towards the vessel's
head, and soon three of them could manage very well, and they only
needed watching. In going up the East Coast to take advantage of the
current of one hundred miles a day, we would fain have gone into the
Juba or Webbe River, the mouth of which is only 15 minutes south of
the line, but we were too shorthanded. We passed up to about ten
degrees north of the Equator, and then steamed out from the coast.
Here Maury's wind chart showed that the calm-belt had long been
passed, but we were in it still; and, instead of a current carrying
us north, we had a contrary current which bore us every day four
miles to the south. We steamed as long as we dared, knowing as we
did that we must use the engines on the coast of India.
After losing many days tossing on the silent sea, with innumerable
dolphins, flying-fish, and sharks around us, we had six days of
strong breezes, then calms again tried our patience; and the near
approach of that period, "the break of the monsoon," in which it was
believed no boat could live, made us sometimes think our epitaph
would be "Left Zanzibar on 30th April, 1864, and never more heard
of." At last, in the beginning of June, the chronometers showed that
we were near the Indian coast. The black men believed it was true
because we told them it was so, but only began to dance with joy when
they saw sea-weed and serpents floating past. These serpents are
peculiar to these parts, and are mentioned as poisonous in the
sailing directions. We ventured to predict that we should see land
next morning, and at midday the high coast hove in sight, wonderfully
like Africa before the rains begin. Then a haze covered all the
land, and a heavy swell beat towards it. A rock was seen, and a
latitude showed it to be the Choule rock. Making that a fresh
starting-point, we soon found the light-ship, and then the forest of
masts loomed through the haze in Bombay harbour. We had sailed over
2500 miles.
Footnotes:
{1} A remedy composed of from six to eight grains of resin of jalap,
the same of rhubarb, and three each of calomel and quinine, made up
into four pills, with tincture of cardamoms, usually relieved all the
symptoms in five or six hours. Four pills are a full dose for a man-
-one will suffice for a woman. They received from our men the name
of "rousers," from their efficacy in rousing up even those most
prostrated. When their operation is delayed, a dessert-spoonful of
Epsom salts should be given. Quinine after or during the operation
of the pills, in large doses every two or three hours, until deafness
or cinchonism ensued, completed the cure. The only cases in which,
we found ourselves completely helpless, were those in which obstinate
vomiting ensued.
{2} The late Mr. Robson.
{3} In 1865, four years after these forebodings were penned, we
received intelligence that they had all come to pass. Sekeletu died
in the beginning of 1864--a civil war broke out about the succession
to the chieftainship; a large body of those opposed to the late
chief's uncle, Impololo, being regent, departed with their cattle to
Lake Ngami; an insurrection by the black tribes followed; Impololo
was slain, and the kingdom, of which, under an able sagacious
mission, a vast deal might have been made, has suffered the usual
fate of African conquests. That fate we deeply deplore; for,
whatever other faults the Makololo might justly be charged with, they
did not belong to the class who buy and sell each other, and the
tribes who have succeeded them do.
{4} It was with sorrow that we learned by a letter from Mr. Moffat,
in 1864, that poor Sekeletu was dead. As will be mentioned further
on, men were sent with us to bring up more medicine. They preferred
to remain on the Shire, and, as they were free men, we could do no
more than try and persuade them to hasten back to their chief with
iodine and other remedies. They took the parcel, but there being
only two real Makololo among them, these could neither return
themselves alone or force their attendants to leave a part of the
country where they were independent, and could support themselves
with ease. Sekeletu, however, lived long enough to receive and
acknowledge goods to the value of 50 pounds, sent, in lieu of those
which remained in Tette, by Robert Moffat, jun., since dead.
{5} A brother, we believe, of one who accompanied Burke and Willis in
the famous but unfortunate Australian Expedition.
{6} Genesis, chap. iii., verses 21 and 23, "make coats of skins, and
clothed them"--"sent him forth from the garden of Eden to till the
ground" imply teaching. Vide Archbishop Whately's "History of
Religious Worship." John W. Parker, West Strand, London, 1849.
{7} "In 1854 the native church at Sierra-Leone undertook to pay for
their primary schools, and thereby effected a saving to the Church
Missionary Society of 800 pounds per annum. In 1861 the
contributions of this one section of native Christians had amounted
to upwards of 10,000 pounds."--"Manual of Church Missionary Society's
African Missions."
End of the Project Gutenberg eText The Zambesi and Its Tributaries