The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume I (of 2), 1866-1868 / Livingstone, David, 1813-1873

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Title: The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume I (of 2), 1866-1868


Author: David Livingstone

Editor: Horace Waller

Release Date: September 7, 2005  [eBook #16672]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)


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LIVINGSTONE, IN CENTRAL AFRICA, FROM 1865 TO HIS DEATH, VOLUME I (OF 2),
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THE LAST JOURNALS OF DAVID LIVINGSTONE,
IN CENTRAL AFRICA, FROM 1865 TO HIS DEATH.

Continued by a Narrative of His Last Moments and Sufferings,
Obtained from His Faithful Servants Chuma and Susi,

by

HORACE WALLER, F.R.G.S.,
Rector Of Twywell, Northampton.

IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.
[1866-1868]

With Portrait, Maps, and Illustrations.

London:
John Murray, Albemarle Street.

1874







INTRODUCTION.


In the midst of the universal sorrow caused by the intelligence that
Dr. Livingstone had lost his life at the furthest point to which he
had penetrated in his search for the true sources of the Nile, a faint
hope was indulged that some of his journals might survive the
disaster: this hope, I rejoice to say, has been realized beyond the
most sanguine expectations.

It is due, in the first place, to his native attendants, whose
faithfulness has placed his last writings at our disposal, and also to
the reader, before he launches forth upon a series of travels and
scientific geographical records of the most extraordinary character,
to say that in the following narrative of seven years' continuous work
and new discovery _no break whatever occurs_.

We have not to deplore the loss, by accident or carelessness, of a
single entry, from the time of Livingstone's departure from Zanzibar
in the beginning of 1866 to the day when his note-book dropped from
his hand in the village of Ilala at the end of April, 1873.

I trust it will not be uninteresting if I preface the history with a
few words on the nature of these journals and writings as they have
come to hand from Central Africa.

It will be remembered that when Mr. Stanley returned to England in
1872, Dr. Livingstone entrusted to his care a very large Letts' diary,
sealed up and consigned to the safe keeping of his daughter, Miss
Agnes Livingstone. Upon the confirmation of the worst news, this book
was examined and found to contain a considerable portion of the notes
which her father made during his travels previous to the time of Mr.
Stanley's meeting him.

The Doctor's custom was always to have metallic note-books in use, in
which the day's jottings were recorded. When time and opportunity
served, the larger volume was posted up with scrupulous care.

It seems, however, that in the last three or four years of his life
this excellent rule had to give way to the toils of travel and the
exhaustion of most distressing illnesses. Whilst in the Manyuema
country he ran out of note-books, ink, and pencils, and had to resort
to shifts which at first made it a very debateable point whether the
most diligent attempt at deciphering would suceeed after all. Such
pocket-books as remained at this period of his travels were utilized
to the last inch of paper. In some of them we find lunar observations,
the names of rivers, and the heights of hills advancing towards the
middle from one end, whilst from the other the itinerary grows day by
day, interspersed with map routes of the march, botanical notes, and
carefully made drawings. But in the mean time the middle portion of
the book was filling up with calculations, private memoranda, words
intended for vocabularies, and extracts from books, whilst here and
there the stain of a pressed flower causes indistinctness; yet the
thread of the narrative runs throughout. Noting but his invariable
habit of constantly repeating the month and year obviates hopeless
confusion. Nor is this all; for pocket-books gave out at last, and old
newspapers, yellow with African damp, were sewn together, and his
notes were written across the type with a substitute for ink made from
the juice of a tree. To Miss Livingstone and to the Rev. C.A. Alington
I am very much indebted for help in the laborious task of deciphering
this portion of the Doctor's journals. Their knowledge of his
handwriting, their perseverance, coupled with good eyes and a strong
magnifying-glass, at last made their task a complete success.

In comparing this great mass of material with the journal brought
home by Mr. Stanley, one finds that a great deal of most interesting
matter can be added. It would seem that in the hurry of writing and
copying despatches previous to his companion's departure, the Doctor
rapidly entered up as much from his note-books as time and space
permitted.

Most fortunately, he still carried the greater part of these original
notes till the time of his death, so that they were forthcoming when
his effects were subsequently saved.

This brings us to the second instalment of the journals, for we have
thus acknowledged the first to have reached us on Mr. Stanley's
return.

When the battered tin travelling-case, which was with Livingstone to
the last, was opened at the Foreign Office in the spring of this year,
not only were these valuable papers disclosed which I have mentioned,
but it was found also that Livingstone had kept a copious journal
during his stay at Unyanyembe in some copy-books, and that when his
stock of note-books was replenished a daily record of his subsequent
travels had been made.

It was with fear and trembling that one looked to see whether all had
been saved or only part, but with satisfaction and thankfulness I have
subsequently discovered that his men preserved every single line,
besides his maps, which now come to light for the first time.

Thus much on the material of the diaries: it remains to say a few
words on the Map which accompanies these journals. It has been
compiled from Dr. Livingstone's original drawings and note-books, with
the corrections and additions he made from time to time as the work of
exploration progressed, and the details of physical geography became
clearer to him. The compiler, Mr. John Bolton[1], implicitly
following the original outline of the drawing as far as possible, has
honestly endeavoured to give such a rendering of the entire work, as
the Doctor would have done had he lived to return home, and
superintend the construction; and I take this opportunity of
expressing my sincere gratification that Mr. Bolton's rare technical
skill, scientific knowledge, and unwearying labour have been available
for the purpose.

Amongst almost the last words that Livingstone wrote, I find an
unfinished letter to myself, in which he gives me very clear and
explicit directions concerning the geographical notes he had
previously sent home, and I am but carrying out the sacred duty which
is attached to a last wish when I call attention to the fact, that he
particularly desired in this letter that _no positions gathered from
his observations for latitude and longitude, nor for the levels of the
Lakes, &c., should be considered correct till Sir Thomas Maclear had
examined them_. The position of Casembe's town, and of a point near
Pambette at the S.E., and of Lake Liemba (Tanganyika), have been
computed and corrected by Sir T. Maclear and Dr. Mann. The
observations for latitude were taken at short intervals, and where it
has been possible to test them they have been found very correct, but
I repeat that until the imprimatur of his old friend at the Cape of
Good Hope stands over the whole of Livingstone's work, the map must be
accepted as open to further corrections.

The journey from Kabwabwata to Mparru has been inserted _entirely_
from notes, as the traveller was too ill to mark the route: this is
the only instance in all his wanderings where he failed to give some
indication on his map of the nature of the ground over which he
passed. The journey front Mikindany Bay to Lake Nyassa has also been
laid down from his journal and latitudes in consequence of the section
of this part of his route (which he left at Ujiji) not having arrived
in England at this date.[2] It will be observed that the outline of
Lake Nyassa differs from that on any published map: it has been drawn
from the original exploratory survey of its southern shores made by
Dr. Livingstone in 1861-3. For some reason this original plan was not
adhered to by a former draughtsman, but the Lake has here been
restored to a more accurate bearing and position.

How often shall we see in the pages of this concluding chapter of his
life, that unwavering determination which was pre-eminently the great
characteristic of David Livingstone!

Naturally endowed with unusual endurance, able to concentrate
faculties of no ordinary kind upon whatever he took in hand, and with
a dread of exaggeration which at times almost militated against the
importance of some of his greatest discoveries, it may be doubted if
ever Geographer went forth strengthened with so much true power. Let
us add to these a sincere trust that slavery, the "great open sore of
the world," as he called it, might under God's good guidance receive
healing at his hands; a fervent hope that others would follow him
after he had removed those difficulties which are comprised in a
profound ignorance of the physical features of a new country, and we
have the marching orders of him who left us in August 1865 never to
return alive.

Privileged to enjoy his near personal friendship for a considerable
period in Africa, and also at home, it has been easy to trace--more
especially from correspondence with him of late years--that
Livingstone wanted just some such gigantic problem as that which he
attacked at the last to measure his strength against: that he finally
overrated and overtaxed it I think all must admit.

He had not sufficiently allowed for an old wound which his
constitution received whilst battling with dysentery and fever, on his
celebrated journey across Africa, and this finally sapped his vital
powers, and, through the irritation of exhaustion, insidiously clouded
much of his happiness.

Many of his old friends were filled with anxiety when they found that
he intended to continue the investigation of the Nile sources, for the
letters sent home by Mr. Stanley raised the liveliest apprehensions,
which, alas! soon proved themselves well grounded.

The reader must be warned that, however versed in books of African
travel he may be, the very novelty of his situation amongst these
pages will render him liable perhaps to a danger which a timely word
may avert. Truly it may be said he has an _embarras de richesses!_ To
follow an explorer who by his individual exertions has filled up a
great space in the map of Africa, who has not only been the first to
set foot on the shores of vast inland seas, but who, with the simple
appliances of his bodily stature for a sounding pole and his stalwart
stride for a measuring tape, lays down new rivers by the hundreds, is
a task calculated to stagger him. It may be provoking to find
Livingstone busily engaged in bargaining for a canoe upon the shores
of Bangweolo, much as he would have secured a boat on his own native
Clyde; but it was not in his nature to be subject to those paroxysms
in which travellers too often indite their discoveries and
descriptions.

At the same time these journals will be found to contain innumerable
notes on the habits of animals, birds, and fishes, many of them
probably new species, and on phenomena in every direction which the
keen eye searched out as the great traveller moved amongst some of the
grandest scenes of this beautiful world: it may be doubted if ever eye
so keen was backed by so much perseverance to shield it from a mere
superficial habit of noticing. Let his adventures speak for
themselves.

Amongst the greatest facts recorded here the Geographer will perceive
that the Doctor has placed it beyond doubt that Lake Nyassa belongs to
a totally distinct system of waters to that which holds Lake
Tanganyika, and the rivers running north and west. He was too
sagacious to venture the surmise that Tanganyika has a subterranean
outlet without having duly weighed the probabilities in the scale with
his elaborate observations: the idea gathers force when we remember
that in the case of limestone cliffs, water so often succeeds in
breaking bounds by boring through the solid rock. No more interesting
problem is left to solve, and we shall yet learn whether, through the
caverns of Western Kabogo, this Lake adds its waters to the vast
northerly flow of rivers we now read of for the first time, and which
are undoubtedly amongst the largest in the world.

I cannot close these remarks without stating how much obliged I am to
Mr. James Young, F.R.S., of Kelly, for having ensured the presence of
the Doctor's men, Chuma and Susi. Ever ready to serve his old friend
Livingstone, he took care that they should be at my elbow so long as I
required them to help me amidst the pile of MSS. and maps. Their
knowledge of the countries they travelled in is most remarkable, and
from constantly aiding their master by putting questions to the
natives respecting the course of rivers, &c., I found them actual
geographers of no mean attainments. In one instance, when in doubt
concerning a particular watershed, to my surprise Susi returned a few
hours afterwards with a plan of the whole system of rivers in the
region under examination, and I found his sketch tally well with the
Doctor's map. Known to me previously for years on the Zambesi and
Shire it was a pleasure to have them with me for four months. Amongst
other good services they have aided the artist by reproducing the
exact facsimile of the hut in which Dr. Livingstone expired, besides
making models of the "kitanda" on which he was carried, and of the
village in which his body lay for fourteen days.

I need not add what ready and valuable assistance I have derived from
the Doctor's old companion Dr. Kirk wherever I have found it necessary
to apply to him; some of the illustrations are more particularly owing
to his kindness.

It only remains to say that it has been thought advisable to retain
all the strictly scientific matter found in Dr. Livingstone's journals
for future publication. When one sees that a register of the daily
rainfall was kept throughout, that the temperature was continually
recorded, and that barometrical and hypsometrical observations were
made with unflagging thoroughness of purpose year in and year out, it
is obvious that an accumulated mass of information remains for the
meteorologist to deal with separately, which alone must engross many
months of labour.

A constant sense of great responsibility has been mine throughout this
task, for one cannot doubt that much of the future welfare of distant
tribes and races depends upon Livingstone obtaining through these
records a distinct hearing for their woes, their misery, and above all
for their willingness to welcome men drawn towards them by motives
like his.

At the same time memory and affection have not failed to bring back
vividly the man, the traveller, and the friend. May that which he has
said in his journals suffer neither loss of interest nor depth of
meaning at the compiler's hands.

    HORACE WALLER.

    TWYWELL RECTORY, THRAPSTON,
    NORTHAMPTONSHIRE.
    _Nov. 2, 1874._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Attached to Mr. Stanford's staff.

[2] In February last this section of the map (as we suppose), together
with some of the Doctor's papers, was sent off from Ujiji by
Lieutenant Cameron. Nothing, however, had arrived on the 22nd
September at Zanzibar, and H.M. Consul, Captain Prideaux, entertained
serious doubts at that time whether they would ever come to hand. All
Livingstone's journals were saved through other instrumentality, as I
have shown.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.

    Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the sultan.
    Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations
    for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_
    and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy
    at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by
    tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies.
    The Makonde. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings.

CHAPTER II.

    Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitane. Result
    of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of
    followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend.
    Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher.
    Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death
    of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence.

CHAPTER III.

    Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation.
    Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of
    Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's.
    Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of
    slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyau metropolis.
    Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen
    cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness
    of climate. The Waiyau people and their peculiarities. Regrets
    at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans.

CHAPTER IV.

    Geology and description of the Waiyau land. Leaves Mataka's. The
    Nyumbo plant. Native iron-foundry. Blacksmiths. Makes for the
    Lake Nyassa. Delight at seeing the Lake once more. The Manganja
    or Nyassa tribe. Arab slave crossing. Unable to procure passage
    across. The Kungu fly. Fear of the English amongst slavers. Lake
    shore. Blue ink. Chitane changes colour. The Nsaka fish.
    Makalaose drinks beer. The Sanjika fish. London antiquities.
    Lake rivers. Mukate's. Lake Pamalombe. Mponda's. A slave gang.
    Wikatani discovers his relatives and remains.

CHAPTER V.

    Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited
    chief. Reaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of
    Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men
    desert. Reaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once
    more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of
    Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the
    transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance.
    Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake.
    The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin
    Campbell. Milandos.

CHAPTER VI.

    Progress northwards. An African forest. Destruction by Mazitu.
    Native salutations. A disagreeable chief. On the watershed
    between the Lake and the Loangwa River. Extensive iron-workings.
    An old Nimrod. The Bua River. Lovely scenery. Difficulties of
    transport. Chilobe. An African Pythoness. Enlists two Waiyou
    bearers. Ill. The Chitella bean. Rains set in. Arrives at the
    Loangwa.

CHAPTER VII.

    Crosses the Loangwa. Distressing march. The king-hunter. Great
    hunger. Christmas feast necessarily postponed. Loss of goats.
    Honey-hunters. A meal at last. The Babisa. The Mazitu again.
    Chitembo's. End of 1866. The new year. The northern brim of the
    great Loangwa Valley. Accident to chronometers. Meal gives out.
    Escape from a Cobra capella. Pushes for the Chambeze. Death of
    Chitane. Great pinch for food. Disastrous loss of medicine
    chest. Bead currency. Babisa. The Chambeze. Reaches
    Chitapangwa's town. Meets Arab traders from Zanzibar. Sends off
    letters. Chitapangwa and his people. Complications.

CHAPTER VIII.

    Chitapangwa's parting oath. Course laid for Lake Tanganyika.
    Moamba's village. Another watershed. The Babemba tribe. Ill with
    fever. Threatening attitude of Chibue's people. Continued
    illness. Reaches cliffs overhanging Lake Liemba. Extreme beauty
    of the scene. Dangerous fit of insensibility. Leaves the Lake.
    Pernambuco cotton. Rumours of war between Arabs and Nsama.
    Reaches Chitimba's village. Presents Sultan's letter to
    principal Arab, Hamees. The war in Itawa. Geography of the
    Arabs. Ivory traders and slave-dealers. Appeal to the Koran.
    Gleans intelligence of the Wasongo, to the eastward, and their
    chief, Merere. Hamees sets out against Nsama. Tedious sojourn.
    Departure for Ponda. Native cupping.

CHAPTER IX.

    Peace negotiations with Nsama. Geographical gleanings. Curious
    spider. Reaches the River Lofu. Arrives at Nsama's. Hamees
    marries the daughter of Nsama. Flight of the bride.
    Conflagration in Arab quarters. Anxious to visit Lake Moero.
    Arab burial. Serious illness. Continues journey. Slave-traders
    on the march. Reaches Moero. Description of the Lake.
    Information concerning the Chambeze and Luapula. Hears of Lake
    Bemba. Visits spot of Dr. Lacerda's death. Casembe apprised of
    Livingstone's approach. Meets Mohamad Bogharib. Lakelet Mofwe.
    Arrives at Casembe's town.

CHAPTER X.

    Grand reception of the traveller. Casembe and his wife. Long
    stay in the town. Goes to explore Moero. Despatch to Lord
    Clarendon, with notes on recent travels. Illness at the end of
    1867. Further exploration of Lake Moero. Flooded plains. The
    River Luao. Visits Kabwabwata. Joy of Arabs at Mohamad bin
    Salleh's freedom. Again ill with fever. Stories of underground
    dwellings.

CHAPTER XI

    Riot in the camp. Mohamad's account of his long imprisonment.
    Superstitions about children's teeth. Concerning dreams. News of
    Lake Chowambe. Life of the Arab slavers. The Katanga gold
    supply. Muabo. Ascent of the Rua Mountains. Syde bin Habib.
    Birthday, 19th March, 1868. Hostility of Mpweto. Contemplates
    visiting Lake Bemba. Nile sources. Men desert. The shores of
    Moero. Visits Fungafunga. Return to Casembe's. Obstructiveness
    of "Cropped-ears." Accounts of Pereira and Dr. Lacerda. Major
    Monteiro. The line of Casembes. Casembe explains the connection
    of the Lakes and the Luapula. Queen Moaeri. Arab sacrifice.
    Kapika gets rid of his wife.

CHAPTER XII.

    Prepares to examine Lake Bemba. Starts from Casembe's 11th June,
    1868. Dead leopard. Moenampanda's reception. The River Luongo.
    Weird death-song of slaves. The forest grave. Lake Bemba changed
    to Lake Bangweolo. Chikumbi's. The Imbozhwa people. Kombokombo's
    stockade. Mazitu difficulties. Discovers Lake Bangweolo on 18th
    July, 1868. The Lake Chief Mapuni. Description of the Lake.
    Prepares to navigate it. Embarks for Lifunge Island. Immense
    size of Lake. Reaches Mpabala Island. Strange dream. Fears of
    canoe men. Return to shore. March back. Sends letters. Meets
    Banyamwezi. Reviews recent explorations at length. Disturbed
    state of country.

CHAPTER XIII.

    Cataracts of the Kalongosi. Passage of the river disputed.
    Leeches and method of detaching them. Syde bin Habib's slaves
    escape. Enormous collection of tusks. Ill. Theory of the Nile
    sources. Tribute to Miss Tinne. Notes on climate. Separation of
    Lake Nyassa from the Nile system. Observations on Victoria
    Nyanza. Slaves dying. Repentant deserters. Mohamad Bogharib.
    Enraged Imbozhwa. An attack. Narrow escape. Renewed attack. A
    parley. Help arrives. Bin Juma. March from the Imbozhwa country.
    Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular
    custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's
    Expedition. Christmas dinners.




ILLUSTRATIONS.

    [DR. LIVINGSTONE, though no artist, had acquired a practice of
    making rude sketches of scenes and objects, which have furnished
    material for the Engravers in the Illustrations for this book.]

Full-page Illustrations.

    1. PORTRAIT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE. (From a Photograph by ANNAN)
    2. SLAVERS REVENGING THEIR LOSSES
    3. SLAVES ABANDONED
    4. CHITAPANGWA RECEIVING DR. LIVINGSTONE
    5. THE VILLAGE ON LAKE LIEMBA--TANGANYIKA
    6. THE ARRIVAL OF HAMEES' BRIDE
    7. DISCOVERY OF LAKE BANGWEOLO

Smaller Illustrations.

     1. DR. LIVINGSTONE'S HOUSE, ZANZIBAR
     2. DHOW USED FOR TRANSPORT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S CAMELS
     3. A THORN-CLIMBER
     4. TOMAHAWK AND AXE
     5. CARVED DOOR, ZANZIBAR
     6. TATTOO OF MATAMBWE
     7. IMITATION OF BASKET-WORK IN POTTERY
     8. DIGGING-STICK WEIGHTED WITH ROUND STONE
     9. MANGANJA AND MACHINGA WOMEN
    10. TATOO ON WOMEN
    11. CARVED STOOL MADE OF A SINGLE WOODEN BLOCK
    12. WOMEN'S TEETH HOLLOWED OUT
    13. MODE OF FORGING HOES
    14. MALLET FOR SEPARATING FIBRES OF BARK
    15. THE CHIEF CHITAPANGWA
    16. CHITAPANGWA'S WIVES
    17. FILED TEETH OF QUEEN MOAeH
    18. A FOREST GRAVE

GENERAL MAP OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S OWN DISCOVERIES




CHAPTER I.

    Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the Sultan.
    Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations
    for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_
    and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy
    at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by
    tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies.
    The Makonde. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings.


ZANZIBAR, _28th January, 1866._--After a passage of twenty-three days
from Bombay we arrived at this island in the _Thule_, which was one of
Captain Sherard Osborne's late Chinese fleet, and now a present from
the Bombay Government to the Sultan of Zanzibar. I was honoured with
the commission to make the formal presentation, and this was intended
by H.E. the Governor-in-Council to show in how much estimation I was
held, and thereby induce the Sultan to forward my enterprise. The
letter to his Highness was a commendatory epistle in my favour, for
which consideration on the part of Sir Bartle Frere I feel deeply
grateful. It runs as follows:--

    TO HIS HIGHNESS SEJUEL MAJID, SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR.

    (_Copy._)

    "YOUR HIGHNESS,--I trust that this will find you in the
    enjoyment of health and happiness.

    "I have requested my friend, Dr. David Livingstone, who is
    already personally well and favourably known to your Highness,
    to convey to you the assurance of the continual friendship and
    goodwill of Her Majesty's Government in India.

    "Your Highness is already aware of the benevolent objects of Dr.
    Livingstone's life and labours, and I feel assured that your
    Highness will continue to him the favour and protection which
    you have already shown to him on former occasions, and that your
    Highness will direct every aid to be given him within your
    Highness's dominions which may tend to further the philanthropic
    designs to which he has devoted himself, and which, as your
    Highness is aware, are viewed with the warmest interest by Her
    Majesty's Government both in India and England.

    "I trust your Highness will favour me with continued accounts of
    your good health and welfare.

    "I remain, your Highness's sincere friend,

    (Signed) "H.B.E. FRERE.

    "BOMBAY CASTLE, _2nd January, 1866._"

When we arrived Dr. Seward, the Acting Consul, was absent at the
Seychelles on account of serious failure of health: Mr. Schultz,
however, was representing him, but he too was at the time away. Dr.
Seward was expected back daily, and he did arrive on the 31st. I
requested a private interview with the Sultan, and on the following
day (29th) called and told him the nature of my commission to his
Highness. He was very gracious, and seemed pleased with the gift, as
well he might, for the _Thule_ is fitted up in the most gorgeous
manner. We asked a few days to put her in perfect order, and this
being the Ramadan, or fasting month, he was all the more willing to
defer a visit to the vessel.

Dr. Seward arranged to have an audience with the Sultan, to carry out
his instructions, which were to present me in a formal manner; Captain
Bradshaw of the _Wasp_, with Captain Leatham of the _Vigilant_, and
Bishop Tozer, were to accompany us in full dress, but the Sultan had a
toothache and gumboil, and could not receive us; he, however, placed
one of his houses at my disposal, and appointed a man who speaks
English to furnish board for my men and me, and also for Captain
Brebner, of the _Thule_, and his men.

[Illustration: Livingstone's House, Zanzibar.]

_6th February, 1866._--The Sultan being still unable to come, partly
on account of toothache and partly on account of Ramadan, he sent his
commodore, Captain Abdullah, to receive the _Thule_. When the English
flag was hauled down in the _Thule_, it went up to the mainmast of the
_Iskander Shah_, and was saluted by twenty-one guns; then the _Wasp_
saluted the Arab flag with an equal number, which honour being duly
acknowledged by a second royal salute from the _Iskander Shah_,
Captain Abdullah's frigate, the ceremony ended.

Next day, the 7th, we were received by the Sultan, and through his
interpreter, I told him that his friend, the Governor of Bombay, had
lately visited the South Mahratta Princes, and had pressed on them the
necessity of education; the world was moving on, and those who
neglected to acquire knowledge would soon find that power slipped
through their fingers, and that the Bombay Government, in presenting
his Highness with a portion of steam power, showed its desire to
impart one of the greatest improvements of modern times, not desiring
to monopolize power, but hoping to lift up others with themselves, and
I wished him to live a hundred years and enjoy all happiness. The idea
was borrowed partly from Sir Bartle Frere's addresses, because I
thought it would have more weight if he heard a little from that
source than if it emanated from myself. He was very anxious that
Captain Brebner and his men, in returning to India, should take a
passage from him in the _Nadir Shah_, one of his men-of-war, and
though he had already placed his things aboard the _Vigilant_, to
proceed to Seychelles, and thence to Bombay, we persuaded Captain
Brebner to accept his Highness's hospitality. He had evidently set his
heart on sending them back with suitable honours, and an hour after
consent was given to go by the _Nadir Shah_, he signed an order for
the money to fit her out.

_11th February, 1866._--One of the foremost subjects that naturally
occupied my mind here was the sad loss of the Baron van der Decken, on
the River Juba, or Aljib. The first intimation of the unfortunate
termination of his explorations was the appearance of Lieutenant von
Schich at this place, who had left without knowing whether his leader
were dead or alive, but an attack had been made on the encampment
which had been planned after the steamer struck the rocks and filled,
and two of the Europeans were killed. The attacking party came from
the direction in which the Baron and Dr. Link went, and three men of
note in it were slain. Von Schich went back from Zanzibar to Brava to
ascertain the fate of the Baron, and meanwhile several native sailors
from Zanzibar had been allowed to escape from the scene of confusion
to Brava.

_18th February, 1866._--All the Europeans went to pay visits of
congratulation to his Highness the Sultan upon the conclusion of the
Ramadan, when sweetmeats were placed before us. He desired me to thank
the Governor of Bombay for his magnificent gift, and to state that
although he would like to have me always with him, yet he would show
me the same favour in Africa which he had done here: he added that the
_Thule_ was at my service to take me to the Rovuma whenever I wished
to leave. I replied that nothing had been wanting on his part; he had
done more than I expected, and I was sure that his Excellency the
Governor would be delighted to hear that the vessel promoted his
health and prosperity; nothing would delight him more than this. He
said that he meant to go out in her on Wednesday next (20th): Bishop
Tozer, Captain Fraser, Dr. Steere, and all the English were present.
The sepoys came in and did obeisance; and I pointed out the Nassick
lads as those who had been rescued from slavery, educated, and sent
back to their own country by the Governor. Surely he must see that
some people in the world act from other than selfish motives.

In the afternoon Sheikh Sulieman, his secretary, came with a letter
for the Governor, to be conveyed by Lieutenant Brebner, I.N., in the
_Nadir Shah_, which is to sail to-morrow. He offered money to the
lieutenant, but this could not be heard of for a moment.

The translation of the letter is as follows, and is an answer to that
which I brought.

    TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF BOMBAY.

    [After compliments.]


    "... The end of my desire is to know ever that your
    Excellency's health is good. As for me--your friend--I am very
    well.

    "Your honoured letter borne by Dr. Livingstone duly reached me,
    and all that you said about him I understood.

    "I will show him respect, give him honour, and help him in all
    his affairs; and that I have already done this, I trust he will
    tell you.

    "I hope you will let me rest in your heart, and that you will
    send me many letters.

    "If you need anything I shall be glad, and will give it.

    "Your sincere friend,

    "MAJID BIN SAID.

    "Dated 2nd Shaul, 1282 (18th February, 1866)."

_2nd March, 1866._--A northern dhow came in with slaves; when this was
reported to the Sultan he ordered it to be burned, and we saw this
done from the window of the Consulate; but he has very little power
over Northern Arabs. He has shown a little vigour of late. He wished
to raise a revenue by a charge of 10 per cent. on all articles brought
into town for sale, but this is clearly contrary to treaty, which
provides that no monopoly shall be permitted, and no dues save that of
5 per cent. import duty. The French Consul bullies him: indeed the
French system of dealing with the natives is well expressed by that
word; no wonder they cannot gain influence among them: the greatest
power they exercise is by lending their flag to slaving dhows, so that
it covers that nefarious traffic.

The stench arising from a mile and a half or two square miles of
exposed sea beach, which is the general depository of the filth of the
town, is quite horrible. At night it is so gross or crass one might
cut out a slice and manure a garden with it: it might be called
Stinkibar rather than Zanzibar. No one can long enjoy good health
here.

On visiting the slave-market I found about 300 slaves exposed for
sale, the greater part of whom came from Lake Nyassa and the Shire
River; I am so familiar with the peculiar faces and markings or
tattooings, that I expect them to recognize me. Indeed one woman said
that she had heard of our passing up Lake Nyassa in a boat, but she
did not see me: others came from Chipeta, S.W. of the Lake. All who
have grown up seem ashamed at being hawked about for sale. The teeth
are examined, the cloth lifted up to examine the lower limbs, and a
stick is thrown for the slave to bring, and thus exhibit his paces.
Some are dragged through the crowd by the hand, and the price called
out incessantly: most of the purchasers were Northern Arabs and
Persians. This is the period when the Sultan's people may not carry
slaves coastwise; but they simply cannot, for the wind is against
them. Many of the dhows leave for Madagascar, and thence come back to
complete their cargoes.

The Arabs are said to treat their slaves kindly, and this also may be
said of native masters; the reason is, master and slave partake of the
general indolence, but the lot of the slave does not improve with the
general progress in civilization. While no great disparity of rank
exists, his energies are little tasked, but when society advances,
wants multiply; and to supply these the slave's lot grows harder. The
distance between master and man increases as the lust of gain is
developed, hence we can hope for no improvement in the slave's
condition, unless the master returns to or remains in barbarism.

_6th March, 1866._--Rains have begun now that the sun is overhead. We
expect the _Penguin_ daily to come from Johanna, and take us to the
Rovuma. It is an unwholesome place; six of my men have fever; few
retain health long, and considering the lowness of the island, and the
absence of sanitary regulations in the town, it is not to be wondered
at. The Sultan has little power, being only the successor to the
captain of the horde of Arabs who came down and overran the island and
maritime coasts of the adjacent continent. He is called only Said or
Syed, never Sultan; and they can boast of choosing a new one if he
does not suit them. Some coins were found in digging here which have
Cufic inscriptions, and are about 900 years old. The island is low;
the highest parts may not be more than 150 feet above the sea; it is
of a coral formation, with sandstone conglomerate. Most of the plants
are African, but clove-trees, mangoes, and cocoa-nut groves give a
luxuriant South Sea Island look to the whole scenery.

We visited an old man to-day, the richest in Zanzibar, who is to give
me letters to his friends at Tanganyika, and I am trying to get a
depot of goods for provisions formed there, so that when I reach it I
may not be destitute.

_18th March, 1866._--I have arranged with Koorje, a Banian, who farms
the custom-house revenue here, to send a supply of beads, cloth,
flour, tea, coffee, and sugar, to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika. The Arab
there, with whom one of Koorje's people will remain in charge of the
goods, is called Thani bin Suelim.

Yesterday we went to take leave of the Sultan, and to thank him for
all his kindness to me and my men, which has indeed been very great.
He offered me men to go with me, and another letter if I wished it. He
looks very ill.

I have received very great kindness during my stay from Dr. and Mrs.
Seward. They have done everything for me in their power: may God
Almighty return it all abundantly into their bosoms, in the way that
He best can. Dr. Seward's views of the policy pursued here I have no
doubt are the right ones; in fact, the only ones which can be looked
back to with satisfaction, or that have probability of success among a
race of Pariah Arabs.

The _Penguin_ came a few days ago, and Lieutenant Garforth in command
agrees to take me down to the Rovuma River, and land me there. I have
a dhow to take my animals: six camels, three buffaloes, and a calf,
two mules, and four donkeys. I have thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna men,
nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two Wayaus, Wekatani and
Chuma.[3]

[It may be well to point out that several of these men had previously
been employed by Dr. Livingstone on the Zambesi and Shire; thus Musa,
the Johanna man, was a sailor on the _Lady Nyassa_, whilst Susi and
Amoda were engaged at Shupanga to cut wood for the _Pioneer_. The two
Waiyau lads, Wakatani and Chuma, were liberated from the slavers by
the Doctor and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861, and lived for three years
with the Mission party at Chibisa's before they were engaged by
Livingstone. The Nassick lads were entire strangers, and were trained
in India.]

_19th March, 1866._--We start this morning at 10 A.M. I trust that the
Most High may prosper me in this work, granting me influence in the
eyes of the heathen, and helping me to make my intercourse beneficial
to them.

_22nd March, 1866._--We reached Rovuma Bay to-day, and anchored about
two miles from the mouth of the river, in five fathoms. I went up the
left bank to see if the gullies which formerly ran into the bay had
altered, so as to allow camels to cross them: they seemed to have
become shallower. There was no wind for the dhow, and as for the
man-of-war towing her, it was out of the question. On the 23rd the
cutter did try to tow the dhow, but without success, as a strong tide
runs constantly out of the river at this season. A squall came up from
the S.E., which would have taken the dhow in, but the master was on
board the _Penguin_, and said he had no large sail. I got him off to
his vessel, but the wind died away before we could reach the mouth of
the river.

_24th March, 1866._--I went to the dhow, and there being no wind I
left orders with the captain to go up the right bank should a breeze
arise. Mr. Fane, midshipman, accompanied me up the left bank above, to
see if we could lead the camels along in the water. Near the point
where the river first makes a little bend to the north, we landed and
found three formidable gullies, and jungle so thick with bush,
date-palms, twining bamboo, and hooked thorns, that one could scarcely
get along. Further inland it was sticky mud, thickly planted over with
mangrove roots and gullies in whose soft banks one sank over the
ankles. No camels could have moved, and men with extreme difficulty
might struggle through; but we never could have made an available
road. We came to a she-hippopotamus lying in a ditch, which did not
cover her; Mr. Fane fired into her head, and she was so upset that she
nearly fell backward in plunging up the opposite bank: her calf was
killed, and was like sucking-pig, though in appearance as large as a
full-grown sow.

We now saw that the dhow had a good breeze, and she came up along the
right bank and grounded at least a mile from the spot where the
mangroves ceased. The hills, about two hundred feet high, begin about
two or three miles above that, and they looked invitingly green and
cool. My companion and I went from the dhow inland, to see if the
mangroves gave way, to a more walkable country, but the swamp covered
over thickly with mangroves only became worse the farther we receded
from the river. The whole is flooded at high tides, and had we landed
all the men we should have been laid up with fever ere we could have
attained the higher land, which on the right bank bounds the line of
vision, and the first part of which lies so near. I thought I had
better land on the sand belt on the left of Rovuma Bay, and then
explore and get information from the natives, none of whom had as yet
come near us, so I ordered the dhow to come down to the spot next day,
and went on board the _Penguin_. Lieutenant Garforth was excessively
kind, and though this is his best time for cruising in the North, he
most patiently agreed to wait and help me to land.

_24th March, 1866._--During the night it occurred to me that we should
be in a mess if after exploration and information from the natives we
could find no path, and when I mentioned this, Lieutenant Garforth
suggested that we should proceed to Kilwa, so at 5 A.M. I went up to
the dhow with Mr. Fane, and told the captain that we were going there.
He was loud in his protestations against this, and strongly
recommended the port of Mikindany, as quite near to Rovuma, Nyassa,
and the country I wished to visit, besides being a good landing-place,
and the finest port on the coast. Thither we went, and on the same
evening landed all our animals in Mikindany bay, which lies only
twenty-five miles N. of Rovuma. The _Penguin_ then left.

The Rovuma is quite altered from what it was when first we visited it.
It is probable that the freshets form banks inside the mouth, which
are washed out into the deep bay, and this periodical formation
probably has prevented the Arabs from using the Rovuma as a port of
shipment. It is not likely that Mr. May[4] would have made a mistake
if the middle were as shoal as now: he found soundings of three
fathoms or more.

[Illustration: Dhow used for Transport of Dr. Livingstone's Camels.]

_25th March, 1866._--I hired a house for four dollars a month and
landed all our goods from the dhow. The bay gives off a narrow
channel, about 500 yards wide and 200 yards long, the middle is deep,
but the sides are coral reefs and shoal: the deep part seems about 100
yards wide. Outside in the Bay of Mikindany there is no anchorage
except on the edge of the reef where the _Penguin_ got seven fathoms,
but further in it was only two fathoms. The inner bay is called Pemba,
not Pimlea, as erroneously printed in the charts of Owen. It is deep
and quite sheltered; another of a similar round form lies somewhat to
the south: this bay may be two miles square.

The cattle are all very much the worse for being knocked about in the
dhow. We began to prepare saddles of a very strong tree called Ntibwe,
which is also used for making the hooked spear with which hippopotami
are killed--the hook is very strong and tough; I applied also for
twenty carriers and a Banian engaged to get them as soon as possible.
The people have no cattle here, they are half-caste Arabs mostly, and
quite civil to us.

_26th March, 1866._--A few of the Nassick boys have the slave spirit
pretty strongly; it goes deepest in those who have the darkest skins.
Two Gallah men are the most intelligent and hardworking among them;
some look on work with indifference when others are the actors.

Now that I am on the point of starting on another trip into Africa I
feel quite exhilarated: when one travels with the specific object in
view of ameliorating the condition of the natives every act becomes
ennobled.

Whether exchanging the customary civilities, or arriving at a village,
accepting a night's lodging, purchasing food for the party, asking for
information, or answering polite African enquiries as to our objects
in travelling, we begin to spread a knowledge of that people by whose
agency their land will yet become enlightened and freed from the
slave-trade.

The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a wild unexplored country is
very great. When on lands of a couple of thousand feet elevation,
brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy
blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is
clear, the step is firm, and a day's exertion always makes the
evening's repose thoroughly enjoyable.

We have usually the stimulus of remote chances of danger either from
beasts or men. Our sympathies are drawn out towards our humble hardy
companions by a community of interests, and, it may be, of perils,
which make us all friends. Nothing but the most pitiable puerility
would lead any manly heart to make their inferiority a theme for
self-exaltation; however, that is often done, as if with the vague
idea that we can, by magnifying their deficiencies, demonstrate our
immaculate perfections.

The effect of travel on a man whose heart is in the right place is
that the mind is made more self-reliant: it becomes more confident of
its own resources--there is greater presence of mind. The body is soon
well-knit; the muscles of the limbs grow as hard as a board, and seem
to have no fat; the countenance is bronzed, and there is no dyspepsia.
Africa is a most wonderful country for appetite, and it is only when
one gloats over marrow bones or elephant's feet that indigestion is
possible. No doubt much toil is involved, and fatigue of which
travellers in the more temperate climes can form but a faint
conception; but the sweat of one's brow is no longer a curse when one
works for God: it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a
blessing. No one can truly appreciate the charm of repose unless he
has undergone severe exertion.

_27th March, 1866._--The point of land which on the north side of the
entrance to the harbour narrows it to about 300 yards is alone called
Pemba; the other parts have different names. Looking northwards from
the point, the first hundred yards has ninety square houses of wattled
daub; a ruin (a mosque) has been built of lime and coral. The whole
point is coral, and the soil is red, and covered over with dense
tropical vegetation, in which the baobab is conspicuous. Dhows at
present come in with ease by the easterly wind which blows in the
evening, and leave next morning, the land wind taking them out.

While the camels and other animals are getting over their fatigues
and bad bruises, we are making camels' saddles, and repairing those of
the mules and buffaloes. Oysters abound on all the rocks and on the
trees over which the tide flows: they are small, but much relished by
the people.

The Arabs here are a wretched lot physically--thin, washed-out
creatures--many with bleared eyes.

_29-30th March, 1866._--- This harbour has somewhat the shape of a
bent bow or the spade on a playing-card, the shaft of the arrow being
the entrance in; the passage is very deep, but not more than 100 yards
wide, and it goes in nearly S.W.; inside it is deep and quite secure,
and protected from all winds. The lands westward rise at once to about
200 feet, and John, a hill, is the landmark by which it is best known
in coming along the coast--so say the Arabs. The people have no
cattle, but say there are no tsetse flies: they have not been
long here, _i.e._ under the present system; but a ruin on the
northern peninsula or face of the entrance, built of stone and
lime--Arab-fashion, and others on the north-west, show that the place
has been known and used of old. The adjacent country has large game at
different water pools, and as the whole country is somewhat elevated
it probably is healthy. There is very little mangrove, but another
enclosed piece of water to the south of this probably has more. The
language of the people here is Swaheli; they trade a little in
gum-copal and Orchilla weed. An agent of the Zanzibar custom-house
presides over the customs, which are very small, and a jemidar
acknowledging the Sultan is the chief authority; but the people are
little superior to the natives whom they have displaced. The jemidar
has been very civil to me, and gives me two guides to go on to Adonde,
but no carriers can be hired. Water is found in wells in the coral
rock which underlies the whole place.

_4th April, 1866._--When about to start from Pemba, at the entrance to
the other side of the bay one of our buffaloes gored a donkey so
badly that he had to be shot: we cut off the tips of the offender's
horns, on the principle of "locking the stable-door when the steed is
stolen," and marched. We came to level spots devoid of vegetation, and
hard on the surface, but a deposit of water below allowed the camels
to sink up to their bodies through the crust. Hauling them out, we got
along to the jemidar's house, which is built of coral and lime. Hamesh
was profuse in his professions of desire to serve, but gave a shabby
hut which let in rain and wind. I slept one night in it, and it was
unbearable, so I asked the jemidar to allow me to sleep in his
court-room, where many of the sepoys were: he consented, but when I
went refused; then, being an excitable, nervous Arab, he took fright,
mustered all his men, amounting to about fifteen, with matchlocks; ran
off, saying he was going to kill a lion; came back, shook hands
nervously with me, vowing it was a man who would not obey him, "it was
not you."

Our goods were all out in the street, bound on the pack-saddles, so at
night we took the ordinary precaution of setting a guard. This excited
our dignitary, and after dark all his men were again mustered with
matches lighted. I took no notice of him, and after he had spent a
good deal of talk, which we could hear, he called Musa and asked what
I meant. The explanations of Musa had the effect of sending him to
bed, and in the morning, when I learned how much I had most
unintentionally disturbed him, I told him that I was sorry, but it did
not occur to me to tell him about an ordinary precaution against
thieves. He thought he had given me a crushing reply when he said with
vehemence, "But there are no thieves here." I did not know till
afterwards that he and others had done me an ill turn in saying that
no carriers could be hired from the independent tribes adjacent. They
are low-coast Arabs, three-quarters African, and, as usual, possess
the bad without the good qualities of both parents. Many of them came
and begged brandy, and laughed when they remarked that they could
drink it in secret but not openly; they have not, however, introduced
it as an article of trade, as we Christians have done on the West
Coast.

_6th April, 1866._--We made a short march round to the south-west side
of the Lake, and spent the night at a village in that direction. There
are six villages dotted round the inner harbour, and the population
may amount to 250 or 300 souls--coast Arabs and their slaves; the
southern portion of the harbour is deep, from ten to fourteen fathoms,
but the north-western part is shoal and rocky. Very little is done in
the way of trade; some sorghum, sem-sem seed, gum-copal, and orchilla
weed, constitute the commerce of the port: I saw two Banian traders
settled here.

_7th April, 1866._--Went about south from Kindany with a Somalie
guide, named Ben Ali or Bon Ali, a good-looking obliging man, who was
to get twenty dollars to take us up to Ngomano. Our path lay in a
valley, with well-wooded heights on each side, but the grass towered
over our heads, and gave the sensation of smothering, whilst the sun
beat down on our heads very fiercely, and there was not a breath of
air stirring. Not understanding camels, I had to trust to the sepoys
who overloaded them, and before we had accomplished our march of about
seven miles they were knocked up.

_8th April, 1866._--We spent the Sunday at a village called Nyangedi.
Here on the evening of the 7th April our buffaloes and camels were
first bitten by the tsetse fly.[5] We had passed through some pieces
of dense jungle which, though they offered no obstruction to
foot-passengers, but rather an agreeable shade, had to be cut for the
tall camels, and fortunately we found the Makonde of this village
glad to engage themselves by the day either as woodcutters or
carriers. We had left many things with the jemidar from an idea that
no carriers could be procured. I lightened the camels, and had a party
of woodcutters to heighten and widen the path in the dense jungle into
which we now penetrated. Every now and then we emerged on open spaces,
where the Makonde have cleared gardens for sorghum, maize, and
cassava. The people were very much more taken up with the camels and
buffaloes than with me. They are all independent of each other, and no
paramount chief exists. Their foreheads may be called compact, narrow,
and rather low; the _alae nasi_ expanded laterally; lips full, not
excessively thick; limbs and body well formed; hands and feet small;
colour dark and light-brown; height middle size, and bearing
independent.

_10th April, 1866._--We reached a village called Narri, lat. 10 deg. 23'
14" S. Many of the men had touches of fever. I gave medicine to eleven
of them, and next morning all were better. Food is abundant and cheap.
Our course is nearly south, and in "wadys," from which, following the
trade-road, we often ascend the heights, and then from the villages,
which are on the higher land, we descend to another on the same wady.
No running water is seen; the people depend on wells for a supply.

_11th April, 1866._--At Tandahara we were still ascending as we went
south; the soil is very fertile, with a good admixture of sand in it,
but no rocks are visible. Very heavy crops of maize and sorghum are
raised, and the cassava bushes are seven feet in height. The bamboos
are cleared off them, spread over the space to be cultivated and
burned to serve as manure. Iron is very scarce, for many of the men
appear with wooden spears; they find none here, but in some spots
where an ooze issued from the soil iron rust appeared. At each of the
villages where we spent a night we presented a fathom of calico, and
the headman always gave a fowl or two, and a basket of rice or maize.
The Makonde dialect is quite different from Swaheli, but from their
intercourse with the coast Arabs many of the people here have acquired
a knowledge of Swaheli.

[Illustration: A Thorn-climber.]

_12th April, 1866._--On starting we found the jungle so dense that the
people thought "there was no cutting it:" it continued upwards of
three miles. The trees are not large, but so closely planted together
that a great deal of labour was required to widen and heighten the
path: where bamboos prevail they have starved out the woody trees. The
reason why the trees are not large is because all the spaces we passed
over were formerly garden ground before the Makonde had been thinned
by the slave-trade. As soon as a garden is deserted, a thick crop of
trees of the same sorts as those formerly cut down springs up, and
here the process of woody trees starving out their fellows, and
occupying the land without dense scrub below, has not had time to work
itself out. Many are mere poles, and so intertwined with climbers as
to present the appearance of a ship's ropes and cables shaken in among
them, and many have woody stems as thick as an eleven-inch hawser. One
species may be likened to the scabbard of a dragoon's sword, but along
the middle of the flat side runs a ridge, from which springs up every
few inches a bunch of inch-long straight sharp thorns. It hangs
straight for a couple of yards, but as if it could not give its thorns
a fair chance of mischief, it suddenly bends on itself, and all its
cruel points are now at right angles to what they were before.
Darwin's observation shows a great deal of what looks like instinct in
these climbers. This species seems to be eager for mischief; its
tangled limbs hang out ready to inflict injury on all passers-by.
Another climber is so tough it is not to be broken by the fingers;
another appears at its root as a young tree, but it has the straggling
habits of its class, as may be seen by its cords stretched some fifty
or sixty feet off; it is often two inches in diameter; you cut it
through at one part and find it reappear forty yards off.

[Illustration: Tomahawk and Axe.]

Another climber is like the leaf of an aloe, but convoluted as
strangely as shavings from the plane of a carpenter. It is dark green
in colour, and when its bark is taken off it is beautifully striated
beneath, lighter and darker green, like the rings of growth on wood;
still another is a thin string with a succession of large knobs, and
another has its bark pinched up all round at intervals so as to
present a great many cutting edges. One sort need scarcely be
mentioned, in which all along its length are strong bent hooks, placed
in a way that will hold one if it can but grapple with him, for that
is very common and not like those mentioned, which the rather seem to
be stragglers from the carboniferous period of geologists, when
Pachydermata wriggled unscathed among tangled masses worse than these.
We employed about ten jolly young Makonde to deal with these
prehistoric plants in their own way, for they are accustomed to
clearing spaces for gardens, and went at the work with a will, using
tomahawks well adapted for the work. They whittled away right
manfully, taking an axe when any trees had to be cut. Their pay,
arranged beforehand, was to be one yard of calico per day: this is not
much, seeing we are still so near the sea-coast. Climbers and young
trees melted before them like a cloud before the sun! Many more would
have worked than we employed, but we used the precaution of taking
the names of those engaged. The tall men became exhausted soonest,
while the shorter men worked vigorously still--but a couple of days'
hard work seemed to tell on the best of them. It is doubtful if any
but meat-eating people can stand long-continued labour without
exhaustion: the Chinese may be an exception. When French navvies were
first employed they could not do a tithe of the work of our English
ones; but when the French were fed in the same style as the English,
they performed equally well. Here the Makonde have rarely the chance
of a good feed of meat: it is only when one of them is fortunate
enough to spear a wild hog or an antelope that they know this luxury;
if a fowl is eaten they get but a taste of it with their porridge.

_13th April, 1866._--We now began to descend the northern slope down
to the Rovuma, and a glimpse could occasionally be had of the country;
it seemed covered with great masses of dark green forest, but the
undulations occasionally looked like hills, and here and there a
Sterculia had put on yellow foliage in anticipation of the coming
winter. More frequently our vision was circumscribed to a few yards
till our merry woodcutters made for us the pleasant scene of a long
vista fit for camels to pass: as a whole, the jungle would have made
the authors of the natty little hints to travellers smile at their own
productions, good enough, perhaps, where one has an open country with
trees and hills; by which to take bearings, estimate distances, see
that one point is on the same latitude, another on the same longitude
with such another, and all to be laid down fair and square with
protractor and compass, but so long as we remained within the
vegetation, that is fed by the moisture from the Indian Ocean, the
steamy, smothering air, and dank, rank, luxuriant vegetation made me
feel, like it, struggling for existence,--and no more capable of
taking bearings than if I had been in a hogshead and observing through
the bunghole!

An old Monyinko headman presented a goat and asked if the sepoys
wished to cut its throat: the Johannees, being of a different sect of
Mahometans, wanted to cut it in some other way than their Indian
co-religionists: then ensued a fierce dispute as to who was of the
right sort of Moslem! It was interesting to see that not Christians
alone, but other nations feel keenly on religious subjects.

I saw rocks of grey sandstone (like that which overlies coal) and the
Rovuma in the distance. Didi is the name of a village whose headsman,
Chombokea, is said to be a doctor; all the headmen pretend or are
really doctors; however one, Fundindomba, came after me for medicine
for himself.

_14th April, 1866._--To-day we succeeded in reaching the Rovuma, where
some very red cliffs appear on the opposite heights, and close by
where it is marked on the map that the _Pioneer_ turned back in 1861.
Here we rested on Sunday 15th.

_16th April, 1866._--Our course now lay westwards, along the side of
that ragged outline of table-land, which we had formerly seen from the
river as flanking both sides. There it appeared a range of hills
shutting in Rovuma, here we had spurs jutting out towards the river,
and valleys retiring from a mile to three miles inland. Sometimes we
wended our way round them, sometimes rose over and descended their
western sides, and then a great deal of wood-cutting was required. The
path is not straight, but from one village to another. We came
perpetually on gardens, and remarked that rice was sown among the
other grain; there must be a good deal of moisture at other times to
admit of this succeeding: at present the crops were suffering for want
of rain. We could purchase plenty of rice for the sepoys, and well it
was so, for the supply which was to last till we arrived at Ngomano
was finished on the 13th. An old doctor, with our food awaiting,
presented me with two large bags of rice and his wife husked it for
us.

_17th April, 1866._--I had to leave the camels in the hands of the
sepoys: I ordered them to bring as little luggage as possible, and the
Havildar assured me that two buffaloes were amply sufficient to carry
all they would bring. I now find that they have more than full loads
for two buffaloes, two mules, and two donkeys; but when these animals
fall down under them, they assure me with so much positiveness that
they are not overloaded, that I have to be silent, or only, as I have
several times done before, express the opinion that they will kill
these animals. This observation on my part leads them to hide their
things in the packs of the camels, which also are over-burdened. I
fear that my experiment with the tsetse will be vitiated, but no
symptoms yet occur in any of the camels except weariness.[6] The sun
is very sharp; it scorches. Nearly all the sepoys had fever, but it is
easily cured; they never required to stop marching, and we cannot make
over four or five miles a day, which movement aids in the cure. In all
cases of fever removal from the spot of attack should be made: after
the fever among the sepoys, the Nassick boys took their turn along
with the Johannees.

_18th April, 1866._--Ben Ali misled us away up to the north in spite
of my protest, when we turned in that direction; he declared that was
the proper path. We had much wood-cutting, and found that our course
that day and next was to enable him to visit and return from one of
his wives--a comely Makonde woman! He brought her to call on me, and I
had to be polite to the lady, though we lost a day by the zigzag. This
is one way by which the Arabs gain influence; a great many very
light-coloured people are strewed among the Makonde, but only one of
these had the Arab hair. On asking Ali whether any attempts had been
made by Arabs to convert those with whom they enter into such intimate
relationships, he replied that the Makonde had no idea of a Deity--no
one could teach them, though Makonde slaves when taken to the coast
and elsewhere were made Mahometans. Since the slave-trade was
introduced this tribe has much diminished in numbers, and one village
makes war upon another and kidnaps, but no religious teaching has been
attempted. The Arabs come down to the native ways, and make no efforts
to raise the natives to theirs; it is better that it is so, for the
coast Arab's manners and morals would be no improvement on the pagan
African!

_19th April, 1866._--We were led up over a hill again, and on to the
level of the plateau (where the evaporation is greater than in the
valley), and tasted water of an agreeable coldness for the first time
this journey. The people, especially the women, are very rude, and the
men very eager to be employed as woodcutters. Very merry they are at
it, and every now and then one raises a cheerful shout, in which all
join. I suppose they are urged on by a desire to please their wives
with a little clothing. The higher up the Rovuma we ascend the people
are more and more tattooed on the face, and on all parts of the body.
The teeth are filed to points, and huge lip-rings are worn by the
women; some few Mabeha men from the south side of the river have
lip-rings too.

_20th April, 1866._--A Johanna man allowed the camels to trespass and
destroy a man's tobacco patch: the owner would not allow us after this
to pass through his rice-field, in which the route lay. I examined the
damage, and made the Johanna man pay a yard of calico for it, which
set matters all right.

Tsetse are biting the buffaloes again. Elephants, hippopotami, and
pigs are the only game here, but we see none: the tsetse feed on
them. In the low meadow land, from one to three miles broad, which
lies along both banks, we have brackish pools, and one, a large one,
which we passed, called Wrongwe, had much fish, and salt is got from
it.

_21st April, 1866._--After a great deal of cutting we reached the
valley of Mehambwe to spend Sunday, all glad that it had come round
again. Here some men came to our camp from Ndonde, who report that an
invasion of Mazitu had three months ago swept away all the food out of
the country, and they are now obliged to send in every direction for
provisions. When saluting, they catch each other's hands and say, "Ai!
Ai!" but the general mode (introduced, probably by the Arabs) is to
take hold of the right hand, and say, "Marhaba" (welcome).

A wall-eyed ill-looking fellow, who helped to urge on the attack on
our first visit in 1861, and the man to whom I gave cloth to prevent a
collision, came about us disguised in a jacket. I knew him well, but
said nothing to him.[7]

_23rd April, 1866._--When we marched this morning we passed the spot
where an animal had been burned in the fire, and on enquiry I found
that it is the custom when a leopard is killed to take off the skin
and consume the carcase thus, because the Makonde do not eat it. The
reason they gave for not eating flesh which is freely eaten by other
tribes, is that the leopard devours men; this shows the opposite of an
inclination to cannibalism.

All the rocks we had seen showed that the plateau consists of grey
sandstone, capped by a ferruginous sandy conglomerate. We now came to
blocks of silicified wood lying on the surface; it is so like recent
wood, that no one who has not handled it would conceive it to be
stone and not wood: the outer surface preserves the grain or woody
fibre, the inner is generally silica.

Buffaloes bitten by tsetse again show no bad effects from it: one mule
is, however, dull and out of health; I thought that this might be the
effect of the bite till I found that his back was so strained that he
could not stoop to drink, and could only eat the tops of the grasses.
An ox would have been ill in two days after the biting on the 7th.

A carrier stole a shirt, and went off unsuspected; when the loss was
ascertained, the man's companions tracked him with Ben Ali by night,
got him in his hut, and then collected the headmen of the village, who
fined him about four times the value of what had been stolen. They
came back in the morning without seeming to think that they had done
aught to be commended; this was the only case of theft we had noticed,
and the treatment showed a natural sense of justice.

_24th April, 1866._--We had showers occasionally, but at night all the
men were under cover of screens. The fevers were speedily cured; no
day was lost by sickness, but we could not march more than a few
miles, owing to the slowness of the sepoys; they are a heavy drag on
us, and of no possible use, except when acting as sentries at night.

When in the way between Kendany and Rovuma, I observed a plant here,
called _Mandare_, the root of which is in taste and appearance like a
waxy potato; I saw it once before at the falls below the Barotse
Valley, in the middle of the continent; it had been brought there by
an emigrant, who led out the water for irrigation, and it still
maintained its place in the soil. Would this not prove valuable in the
soil of India? I find that it is not cultivated further up the country
of the Makonde, but I shall get Ali to secure some for Bombay.

_25th April, 1866._--A serpent bit Jack, our dog, above the eye, the
upper eyelid swelled very much, but no other symptoms appeared, and
next day all swelling was gone; the serpent was either harmless, or
the quantity of poison injected very small. The pace of the camels is
distressingly slow, and it suits the sepoys to make it still slower
than natural by sitting down to smoke and eat. The grass is high and
ground under it damp and steamy.

_26th April, 1866._--On the 25th we reached Narri, and resolved to
wait the next day and buy food, as it is not so plentiful in front;
the people are eager traders in meal, fowls, eggs, and honey; the
women are very rude. Yesterday I caught a sepoy, Pando, belabouring a
camel with a big stick as thick as any part of his arm, the path being
narrow, it could not get out of his way; I shouted to him to desist;
he did not know I was in sight, to-day the effect of the bad usage is
seen in the animal being quite unable to move its leg: inflammation
has set up in the hip-joint. I am afraid that several bruises which
have festered on the camels, and were to me unaccountable, have been
wilfully bestowed. This same Pando and another left Zanzibar drunk: he
then stole a pair of socks from me, and has otherwise been perfectly
useless, even a pimple on his leg was an excuse for doing nothing for
many days. We had to leave this camel at Narri under charge of the
headman.

_28th April, 1866._--The hills on the north now retire out of our
sight. A gap in the southern plateau gives passage to a small river,
which arises in a lakelet of some size, eight or ten miles inland: the
river and lakelet are both called Nangadi; the latter is so broad that
men cannot be distinguished, even by the keen eyes of the natives on
the other side: it is very deep, and abounds in large fish; the people
who live there are Mabiha. A few miles above this gap the southern
highland falls away, and there are lakelets on marshes, also
abounding in fish, an uninhabited space next succeeds, and then we
have the Matambwe country, which extends up to Ngomano. The Matambwe
seem to be a branch of the Makonde, and a very large one: their
country extends a long way south, and is well stocked with elephants
and gum-copal trees.

They speak a language slightly different from that of the Makonde, but
they understand them. The Matambwe women are, according to Ali, very
dark, but very comely, though they do wear the lip-ring. They carry
their ivory, gum-copal, and slaves to Ibo or Wibo.

_29th April, 1866._--We spend Sunday, the 29th, on the banks of the
Rovuma, at a village called Nachuchu, nearly opposite Konayumba, the
first of the Matambwe, whose chief is called Kimbembe. Ali draws a
very dark picture of the Makonde. He says they know nothing of a
Deity, they pray to their mothers when in distress or dying; know
nothing of a future state, nor have they any religion except a belief
in medicine; and every headsman is a doctor. No Arab has ever tried to
convert them, but occasionally a slave taken to the coast has been
circumcised in order to be clean; some of them pray, and say they know
not the ordeal or muavi. The Nassick boys failed me when I tried to
communicate some knowledge through them. They say they do not
understand the Makonde language, though some told me that they came
from Ndonde's, which is the head-quarters of the Makonde. Ali says
that the Makonde blame witches for disease and death; when one of a
village dies, the whole population departs, saying "that is a bad
spot." They are said to have been notorious for fines, but an awe has
come over them, and no complaints have been made, though our animals
in passing the gardens have broken a good deal of corn. Ali says they
fear the English. This is an answer to my prayer for influence on the
minds of the heathen. I regret that I cannot speak to them that good
of His name which I ought.

I went with the Makonde to see a specimen of the gum-copal tree in the
vicinity of this village. The leaves are in pairs, glossy green, with
the veins a little raised on both face and back; the smaller branches
diverge from the same point: the fruit, of which we saw the shells,
seems to be a nut; some animal had in eating them cut them through.
The bark of the tree is of a light ash colour; the gum was oozing from
the bark at wounded places, and it drops on the ground from branches;
it is thus that insects are probably imbedded in the gum-copal. The
people dig in the vicinity of modern trees in the belief that the more
ancient trees which dropped their gum before it became an article of
commerce must have stood there. "In digging, none may be found on one
day but God (Mungu) may give it to us on the next." To this all the
Makonde present assented, and showed me the consciousness of His
existence was present in their minds. The Makonde get the gum in large
quantities, and this attracts the coast Arabs, who remain a long time
in the country purchasing it. Hernia humoralis abounds; it is ascribed
to beer-drinking.

_30th April, 1866._--Many ulcers burst forth on the camels; some seem
old dhow bruises. They come back from pasture, bleeding in a way that
no rubbing against a tree would account for. I am sorry to suspect
foul play: the buffaloes and mules are badly used, but I cannot be
always near to prevent it.

Bhang[8] is not smoked, but tobacco is: the people have no sheep or
goats; only fowls, pigeons, and Muscovy ducks are seen. Honey is very
cheap; a good large pot of about a gallon, with four fowls, was given
for two yards of calico. Buffaloes again bitten by tsetse, and by
another fly exactly like the house-fly, but having a straight hard
proboscis instead of a soft one; other large flies make the blood run.
The tsetse does not disturb the buffaloes, but these others and the
smaller flies do. The tsetse seem to like the camel best; from these
they are gorged with blood--they do not seem to care for the mules and
donkeys.

[Illustration: Carved Door, Zanzibar.]

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Dhow is the name given to the coasting vessel of East Africa and
the Indian Ocean.

[4] The Commander of H.M.S. _Pioneer_ in 1861.

[5] Those who have read the accounts given by African travellers will
remember that the bites inflicted by two or three of these small flies
will visually lay the foundation of a sickness which destroys oxen,
horses, and dogs in a few weeks.

[6] Dr. Livingstone was anxious to try camels and Indian buffaloes in
a tsetse country to see the effect upon them.

[7] This refers to an attack made upon the boats of the _Pioneer_ when
the Doctor was exploring the River Rovuma in 1861.

[8] A species of hemp.




CHAPTER II.

    Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitane. Result
    of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of
    followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend.
    Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher.
    Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death
    of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence.


_1st May, 1866._--We now came along through a country comparatively
free of wood, and we could move on without perpetual cutting and
clearing. It is beautiful to get a good glimpse out on the surrounding
scenery, though it still seems nearly all covered with great masses of
umbrageous foliage, mostly of a dark green colour, for nearly all of
the individual trees possess dark glossy leaves like laurel. We passed
a gigantic specimen of the Kumbe, or gum-copal tree. Kumba means to
dig. Changkumbe, or things dug, is the name of the gum; the Arabs call
it "sandaruse." Did the people give the name Kumbe to the tree after
the value of the gum became known to them? The Malole, from the fine
grained wood of which all the bows are made, had shed its fruit on the
ground; it looks inviting to the eye--an oblong peach-looking thing,
with a number of seeds inside, but it is eaten by maggots only.

When we came to Ntande's village, we found it enclosed in a strong
stockade, from a fear of attack by Mabiha, who come across the river
and steal their women when going to draw water: this is for the Ibo
market. They offered to pull down their stockade and let us in if we
would remain over-night, but we declined. Before reaching Ntande we
passed the ruins of two villages; the owners were the attacking party
when we ascended the Rovuma in 1862. I have still the old sail, with
four bullet-holes through it, made by the shots which they fired after
we had given cloth and got assurances of friendship. The father and
son of this village were the two men seen by the second boat preparing
to shoot; the fire of her crew struck the father on the chin and the
son on the head. It may have been for the best that the English are
thus known as people who can hit hard when unjustly attacked, as we on
this occasion most certainly were: never was a murderous assault more
unjustly made or less provoked. They had left their villages and gone
up over the highlands away from the river to their ambush whilst their
women came to look at us.

_2nd May, 1866._--Mountains again approach us, and we pass one which
was noticed in our first ascent from its resemblance to a table
mountain. It is 600 or 800 feet high, and called Liparu: the plateau
now becomes mountainous, giving forth a perennial stream which comes
down from its western base and forms a lagoon on the meadow-land that
flanks the Rovuma. The trees which love these perpetual streams spread
their roots all over the surface of the boggy banks, and make a firm
surface, but at spots one may sink a yard deep. We had to fill up
these deep ditches with branches and leaves, unload the animals, and
lead them across. We spent the night on the banks of the Liparu,[9]
and then proceeded on our way.

_3rd May, 1866._--We rested in a Makoa village, the head of which was
an old woman. The Makoa or Makoane are known by a half-moon figure
tattooed on their foreheads or elsewhere. Our poodle dog Chitane
chased the dogs of this village with unrelenting fury, his fierce
looks inspired terror among the wretched pariah dogs of a yellow and
white colour, and those looks were entirely owing to its being
difficult to distinguish at which end his head or tail lay. He enjoyed
the chase of the yelping curs immensely, but if one of them had turned
he would have bolted the other way.

A motherly-looking woman came forward and offered me some meal; this
was when we were in the act of departing: others had given food to the
men and no return had been made. I told her to send it on by her
husband, and I would purchase it, but it would have been better to
have accepted it: some give merely out of kindly feeling and with no
prospect of a return.

Many of the Makoa men have their faces thickly tattooed in double,
raised lines of about half an inch in length. After the incisions are
made charcoal is rubbed in and the flesh pressed out, so that all the
cuts are raised above the level of the surface. It gives them rather a
hideous look, and a good deal of that fierceness which our kings and
chiefs of old put on whilst having their portraits taken.

_4th May, 1866._--The stream, embowered in perpetual shade and
overspread with the roots of water-loving, broad-leaved trees, we
found to be called Nkonya. The spot of our encampment was an island
formed by a branch of it parting and re-entering it again: the owner
had used it for rice.

The buffaloes were bitten again by tsetse on 2nd, and also to-day,
from the bites of other flies (which look much more formidable than
tsetse), blood of arterial colour flows down; this symptom I never saw
before, but when we slaughtered an ox which had been tsetse bitten, we
observed that the blood had the arterial hue. The cow has inflammation
of one eye, and a swelling on the right lumbar portion of the pelvis:
the grey buffalo has been sick, but this I attribute to unmerciful
loading; for his back is hurt: the camels do not seem to feel the fly,
though they get weaker from the horrid running sores upon them and
hard work. There are no symptoms of tsetse in mules or donkeys, but
one mule has had his shoulder sprained, and he cannot stoop to eat or
drink.

We saw the last of the flanking range on the north. The country in
front is plain, with a few detached granitic peaks shot up. The Makoa
in large numbers live at the end of the range in a place called
Nyuchi. At Nyamba, a village where we spent the night of the 5th, was
a doctoress and rain-maker, who presented a large basket of soroko,
or, as they call it in India, "mung," and a fowl. She is tall and well
made, with fine limbs and feet, and was profusely tattooed all over;
even her hips and buttocks had their elaborate markings: no shame is
felt in exposing these parts.

A good deal of salt is made by lixiviation of the soil and evaporating
by fire. The head woman had a tame khanga tole or tufted guinea-fowl,
with bluish instead of white spots.

In passing along westwards after leaving the end of the range, we came
first of all on sandstone hardened by fire; then masses of granite, as
if in that had been contained the igneous agency of partial
metamorphosis; it had also lifted up the sandstone, so as to cause a
dip to the east. Then the syenite or granite seemed as if it had been
melted, for it was all in striae, which striae, as they do elsewhere,
run east and west. With the change in geological structure we get a
different vegetation. Instead of the laurel-leaved trees of various
kinds, we have African ebonies, acacias, and mimosae: the grass is
shorter and more sparse, and we can move along without wood-cutting.
We were now opposite a hill on the south called Simba, a lion, from
its supposed resemblance to that animal. A large Mabiha population
live there, and make raids occasionally over to this side for slaves.

_6th May, 1866._--Tsetse again. The animals look drowsy. The cow's eye
is dimmed; when punctured, the skin emits a stream of scarlet blood.
The people hereabouts seem intelligent and respectful. At service a
man began to talk, but when I said, "Ku soma Mlungu,"--"we wish to
pray to God," he desisted. It would be interesting to know what the
ideas of these men are, and to ascertain what they have gained in
their communings with nature during the ages past. They do not give
the idea of that boisterous wickedness and disregard of life which we
read of in our own dark ages, but I have no one to translate, although
I can understand much of what is said on common topics chiefly from
knowing other dialects.

_7th May, 1866._--A camel died during the night, and the grey buffalo
is in convulsions this morning. The cruelty of these sepoys vitiates
my experiment, and I quite expect many camels, one buffalo, and one
mule to die yet; they sit down and smoke and eat, leaving the animals
loaded in the sun. If I am not with them, it is a constant dawdling;
they are evidently unwilling to exert themselves, they cannot carry
their belts and bags, and their powers of eating and vomiting are
astounding. The Makonde villages are remarkably clean, but no sooner
do we pass a night in one than the fellows make it filthy. The climate
does give a sharp appetite, but these sepoys indulge it till relieved
by vomiting and purging. First of all they breakfast, then an hour
afterwards they are sitting eating the pocketfuls of corn maize they
have stolen and brought for the purpose, whilst I have to go ahead,
otherwise we may be misled into a zigzag course to see Ali's friends;
and if I remain behind to keep the sepoys on the move, it deprives me
of all the pleasure of travelling. We have not averaged four miles a
day in a straight line, yet the animals have often been kept in the
sun for eight hours at a stretch. When we get up at 4 A.M. we cannot
get under weigh before 8 o'clock. Sepoys are a mistake.

_7th May, 1866._--We are now opposite a mountain called Nabungala,
which resembles from the north-east an elephant lying down. Another
camel, a very good one, died on the way: its shiverings and
convulsions are not at all like what we observed in horses and oxen
killed by tsetse, but such may lie the cause, however. The only
symptom pointing to the tsetse is the arterial-looking blood, but we
never saw it ooze from the skin after the bite of the gad-fly as we do
now.

_8th May, 1866._--We arrived at a village called Jponde, or Liponde,
which lies opposite a granitic hill on the other-side of the river
(where we spent a night on our boat trip), called Nakapuri; this is
rather odd, for the words are not Makonde but Sichuana, and signify
goat's horn, from the projections jutting out from the rest of the
mass. I left the havildar, sepoys, and Nassick boys here in order to
make a forced march forward, where no food is to be had, and send
either to the south or westwards for supplies, so that after they have
rested the animals and themselves five days they may come. One mule is
very ill; one buffalo drowsy and exhausted; one camel a mere skeleton
from bad sores; and another has an enormous hole at the point of the
pelvis, which sticks out at the side. I suspect that this was made
maliciously, for he came from the field bleeding profusely; no tree
would have perforated a round hole in this way. I take all the goods
and leave only the sepoys' luggage, which is enough for all the
animals now.

_9th May, 1866._--I went on with the Johanna men and twenty-four
carriers, for it was a pleasure to get away from the sepoys and
Nassick boys; the two combined to overload the animals. I told them
repeatedly that they would kill them, but no sooner had I adjusted the
burdens and turned my back than they put on all their things. It was
however such continual vexation to contend with the sneaking spirit,
that I gave up annoying myself by seeing matters, though I felt
certain that the animals would all be killed. We did at least eight
miles pleasantly well, and slept at Moedaa village. The rocks are
still syenite. We passed a valley with the large thorny acacias of
which canoes are often made, and a euphorbiaceous tree, with
seed-vessels as large as mandarin oranges, with three seeds inside. We
were now in a country which, in addition to the Mazitu invasion, was
suffering from one of those inexplicable droughts to which limited and
sometimes large portions of this country are subject. It had not been
nearly so severe on the opposite or south side, and thither too the
Mazitu had not penetrated. Rushes, which plagued us nearer the coast,
are not observed now; the grass is all crisp and yellow; many of the
plants are dead, and leaves are fallen off the trees as if winter had
begun. The ground is covered with open forest, with here and there
thick jungle on the banks of the streams. All the rivulets we have
passed are mere mountain torrents filled with sand, in which the
people dig for water.

We passed the spot where an Arab called Birkal was asked payment for
leave to pass. After two and a half days' parley he fought, killed two
Makonde, and mortally wounded a headman, which settled the matter; no
fresh demand has been made. Ali's brother also resisted the same sort
of demand, fought several times, or until three Makonde and two of his
people were killed; they then made peace, and no other exactions have
been made.

_11th May, 1866._--We now found a difficulty in getting our carriers
along, on account of exhaustion from want of food. In going up a sand
stream called Nyede, we saw that all moist spots had been planted with
maize and beans, so the loss caused by the Mazitu, who swept the land
like a cloud of locusts, will not be attended by much actual
starvation. We met a runaway woman: she was seized by Ali, and it was
plain that he expected a reward for his pains. He thought she was a
slave, but a quarter of a mile off was the village she had left, and
it being doubtful if she were a runaway at all, the would-be fugitive
slave-capture turned out a failure.

_12th May, 1866._--About 4' E.N.E. of Matawatawa, or Nyamatolole, our
former turning point.

_13th May, 1866._--We halted at a village at Matawatawa. A
pleasant-looking lady, with her face profusely tattooed, came forward
with a bunch of sweet reed, or _Sorghum saceliaratum_, and laid it at
my feet, saying, "I met you here before," pointing to the spot on the
river where we turned. I remember her coming then, and that I asked
the boat to wait while she went to bring us a basket of food, and I
think it was given to Chiko, and no return made. It is sheer
kindliness that prompts them sometimes, though occasionally people do
make presents with a view of getting a larger one in return: it is
pleasant to find that it is not always so. She had a quiet, dignified
manner, both in talking and walking, and I now gave her a small
looking-glass, and she went and brought me her only fowl and a basket
of cucumber-seeds, from which oil is made; from the amount of oily
matter they contain thov are nutritious when roasted and eaten as
nuts. She made an apology, saying they were hungry times at present. I
gave her a cloth, and so parted with Kanangone, or, as her name may be
spelled, Kananone. The carriers were very useless from hunger, and we
could not buy anything for them; for the country is all dried up, and
covered sparsely with mimosas and thorny acacias.

_14th May, 1866._--I could not get the carriers on more than an hour
and three-quarters: men tire very soon on empty stomachs. We had
reached the village of Hassane, opposite to a conical hill named
Chisulwe, which is on the south side of the river, and evidently of
igneous origin. It is tree-covered, while the granite always shows
lumps of naked rock. All about lie great patches of beautiful
dolomite. It may have been formed by baking of the tufa, which in this
country seems always to have been poured out with water after volcanic
action. Hassane's daughter was just lifting a pot of French beans,
boiled in their pods, off the fire when we entered the village, these
he presented to me, and when I invited him to partake, he replied that
he was at home and would get something, while I was a stranger on a
journey. He, like all the other headmen, is a reputed doctor, and his
wife, a stout old lady, a doctoress; he had never married any wife but
this one, and he had four children, all of whom lived with their
parents. We employed one of his sons to go to the south side and
purchase food, sending at the same time some carriers to buy for
themselves. The siroko and rice bought by Hassane's son we deposited
with him for the party behind, when they should arrive. The amount of
terror the Mazitu inspire cannot be realized by us. They shake their
shields and the people fly like stricken deer. I observed that a child
would not go a few yards for necessary purposes unless grandmother
stood in sight. Matumora, as the Arabs call the chief at Ngomano, gave
them a warm reception, and killed several of them: this probably
induced them to retire.

_15th and 16th May, 1866._--Miserably short marches from hunger, and I
sympathise with the poor fellows. Those sent to buy food for
themselves on the south bank were misled by a talkative fellow named
Chikungu, and went off north, where we knew nothing could be had. His
object was to get paid for three days, while they only loitered here.
I suppose hunger has taken the spirit out of them; but I told them
that a day in which no work was done did not count: they admitted
this. We pay about two feet of calico per day, and a fathom or six
feet for three days' carriage.

_17th May, 1866._--With very empty stomachs they came on a few miles
and proposed to cross to the south side; as this involved crossing the
Luendi too, I at first objected, but in hopes that we might get food
for them we consented, and were taken over in two very small canoes. I
sent Ali and Musa meanwhile to the south to try and get some food. I
got a little green sorghum for them and paid them off. These are the
little troubles of travelling, and scarce worth mentioning. A granitic
peak now appears about 15' off, to the W.S.W. It is called Chihoka.

_18th May, 1866._--At our crossing place metamorphic rocks of a
chocolate colour stood on edge; and in the country round we have
patches of dolomite, sometimes as white as marble. The country is all
dry: grass and leaves crisp and yellow. Though so arid now, yet the
great abundance of the dried stalks of a water-loving plant, a sort of
herbaceous acacia, with green pea-shaped flowers, proves that at other
times it is damp enough. The marks of people's feet floundering in
slush, but now baked, show that the country can be sloppy.

The headman of the village where we spent the night of 17th is a
martyr to rheumatism. He asked for medicine, and when I gave some he
asked me to give it to him out of my own hand. He presented me with a
basket of siroko and of green sorghum as a fee, of which I was very
glad, for my own party were suffering, and I had to share out the
little portion of flour I had reserved to myself.

_19th May, 1866._--Coming on with what carriers we could find at the
crossing place, we reached the confluence without seeing it; and
Matumora being about two miles up the Loendi, we sent over to him for
aid. He came over this morning early,--a tall, well-made man, with a
somewhat severe expression of countenance, from a number of wrinkles
on his forehead. He took us over the Loendi, which is decidedly the
parent stream of the Rovuma, though that as it comes from the west
still retains the name Loendi from the south-west here, and is from
150 to 200 yards wide, while the Rovuma above Matawatawa is from 200
to 250, full of islands, rocks, and sandbanks. The Loendi has the same
character. We can see the confluence from where we cross about 2' to
the north. Both rivers are rapid, shoal, and sandy; small canoes are
used on them, and the people pride themselves on their skilful
management: in this the women seem in no way inferior to the men.

In looking up the Loendi we see a large granitic peak called Nkanje,
some 20 miles off, and beyond it the dim outline of distant highlands,
in which seams of coal are exposed. Pieces of the mineral are found in
Loendi's sands.

Matumora has a good character in the country, and many flee to him
from oppression. He was very polite; sitting on the right bank till
all the goods were carried over, then coming in the same canoe wifn me
himself, he opened a fish basket in a weir and gave me the contents,
and subsequently a little green sorghum. He literally has lost all his
corn, for he was obliged to flee with his people to Marumba, a rocky
island in Rovuma, about six miles above Matawatawa. He says that both
Loendi and Rovuma come out of Lake Nyassa; a boat could not ascend,
however, because many waterfalls are in their course: it is strange if
all this is a myth. Matumora asked if the people through whose country
I had come would preserve the peace I wished. He says he has been
assailed on all sides by slave-hunters: he alone has never hunted for
captives: if the people in front should attack me he would come and
fight them: finally he had never seen a European before (Dr. Roscher
travelled as an Arab), nor could I learn where Likumbu at Ngomano
lives; it was with him that Roscher is said to have left his goods.

The Mazitu had women, children, oxen and goats with them. The whole
tribe lives on plundering the other natives by means of the terror
their shields inspire; had they gone further down the Rovuma, no ox
would have survived the tsetse.

_20th May, 1866._--I paid Ali to his entire satisfaction, and
entrusted him with a despatch, "No. 2 Geographical," and then sent off
four men south to buy food. Here we are among Matambwe. Two of
Matumora's men act as guides. We are about 2' south and by west of the
confluence Ngomano. Lat. 11 deg. 26' 23" S.; long. 37 deg. 40' 52" E.

Abraham, one of the Nassick boys, came up and said he had been sent by
the sepoys, who declared they would come no further. It was with the
utmost difficulty they had come so far, or that the havildar had
forced them on, they would not obey him--would not get up in the
mornings to march; lay in the paths, and gave their pouches and
muskets to the natives to carry: they make themselves utterly useless.
The black buffalo is dead; one camel ditto, and one mule left behind
ill. Were I not aware of the existence of the tsetse, I should say
they died from sheer bad treatment and hard work.

I sent a note to be read to the sepoys stating that I had seen their
disobedience, unwillingness, and skulking, and as soon as I received
the havildar's formal evidence, I would send them back. I regretted
parting with the havildar only.

A leopard came a little after dark while the moon was shining, and
took away a little dog from among us; it is said to have taken off a
person a few days ago.

_22nd May, 1866._--The men returned with but little food in return for
much cloth. Matumora is very friendly, but he has nothing to give save
a little green sorghum, and that he brings daily.

A south wind blows strongly every afternoon. The rains ceased about
the middle of May, and the temperature is lowered. A few heavy night
showers closed the rainy season.

_23rd--24th May, 1866._--I took some Lunar observations.

_25th May, 1866._--Matumora is not Ndonde. A chief to the south-west
of this owns that name and belongs to the Matumbwe tribe.

_26th May, 1866._--I sent Musa westwards to buy food, and he returned
on the evening of 27th without success; he found an Arab slave-dealer
waiting in the path, who had bought up all the provisions. About 11
P.M. we saw two men pass our door with two women in a chain; one man
carried fire in front, the one behind, a musket. Matumora admits that
his people sell each other.

_27th May, 1866._--The havildar and Abraham came up. Havildar says
that all I said in my note was true, and when it was read to the
sepoys they bewailed their folly, he adds that if they were all sent
away disgraced, no one would be to blame but themselves. He brought
them to Hassane's, but they were useless, though they begged to be
kept on: I may give them another trial, but at present they are a sad
incumbrance. South-west of this the Manganja begin; but if one went by
them, there is a space beyond in the south-west without people.

The country due west of this is described by all to be so mountainous
and beset by Mazitu, that there is no possibility of passing that way.
I must therefore make my way to the middle of the Lake, cross over,
and then take up my line of 1863.

_2nd June, 1866._--The men sent to the Matambwe south-east of this
returned with a good supply of grain. The sepoys won't come; they say
they cannot,--a mere excuse, v because they tried to prevail on the
Nassick boys to go slowly like them, and wear my patience out. They
killed one camel with the butt ends of their muskets, beating it till
it died. I thought of going down disarming them all, and taking five
or six of the willing ones, but it is more trouble than profit, so I
propose to start westwards on Monday the 4th, or Tuesday the 5th. My
sepoys offered Ali eight rupees to take them to the coast, thus it
has been a regularly organized conspiracy.

From the appearance of the cow-buffalo, I fear the tsetse is its chief
enemy, but there is a place like a bayonet wound on its shoulder, and
many of the wounds or bruises on the camels were so probed that I
suspect the sepoys.

Many things African are possessed of as great vitality in their line
as the African people. The white ant was imported accidentally into
St. Helena from the coast of Guinea, and has committed such ravages in
the town of St. James, that numerous people have been ruined, and the
governor calls out for aid against them. In other so-called new
countries a wave of English weeds follows the tide of English
emigration, and so with insects; the European house-fly chases away
the blue-bottle fly in New Zealand. Settlers have carried the
house-fly in bottles and boxes for their new locations, but what
European insect will follow us and extirpate the tsetse? The Arabs
have given the Makonde bugs, but we have the house-fly wherever we go,
the blue-bottle and another like the house-fly, but with a sharp
proboscis; and several enormous gad-flies. Here there is so much room
for everything. In New Zealand the Norwegian rat is driven off by even
the European mouse; not to mention the Hanoverian rat of Waterton,
which is lord of the land. The Maori say that "as the white man's rat
has driven away the native rat, so the European fly drives away our
own; and as the clover kills our fern, so will the Maori disappear
before the white man himself." The hog placed ashore by Captain Cook
has now overrun one side of the island, and is such a nuisance that a
large farmer of 100,000 acres has given sixpence per head for the
destruction of some 20,000, and without any sensible diminution; this
would be no benefit here, for the wild hogs abound and do much damage,
besides affording food for the tsetse: the brutes follow the ewes with
young, and devour the poor lambs as soon as they make their
appearance.

_3rd June, 1866._--The cow-buffalo fell down foaming at the mouth, and
expired. The meat looks fat and nice, and is relished by the people, a
little glariness seemed to be present on the foreleg, and I sometimes
think that, notwithstanding the dissimilarity of the symptoms observed
in the camels and buffaloes now, and those we saw in oxen and horses,
the evil may be the tsetse, after all, but they have been badly used,
without a doubt. The calf has a cut half an inch deep, the camels have
had large ulcers, and at last a peculiar smell, which portends death.
I feel perplexed, and not at all certain as to the real causes of
death.

I asked Matumora if the Matambwe believed in God, he replied, that he
did not know Him, and I was not to ask the people among whom I was
going if they prayed to Him, because they would imagine that I wished
them to be killed. I told him that we loved to speak about Him, &c. He
said, when they prayed they offered a little meal and then prayed, but
did not know much about Him.

They have all great reverence for the Deity, and the deliberate way in
which they say "We don't know Him" is to prevent speaking
irreverently, as that may injure the country. The name is "Mulungu":
Makochera afterwards said, that "He was not good, because He killed so
many people."

_4th June, 1866._--Left Ngomano. I was obliged to tell the Nassick
boys that they must either work or return, it was absurd to have them
eating up our goods, and not even carrying their own things, and I
would submit to it no more: five of them carry bales, and two the
luggage of the rest. Abraham and Richard are behind. I gave them bales
to carry, and promised them ten rupees per month, to begin on this
date. Abraham has worked hard all along, and his pay may be due from
7th April, the day we started from Kindany.

_5th June, 1866._--We slept at a village called Lamba, on the banks of
the Rovuma, near a brawling torrent of 150 yards, or 200 perhaps, with
many islands and rocks in it. The country is covered with open forest,
with patches of cultivation everywhere, but all dried up at present
and withered, partly from drought and partly from the cold of winter.
We passed a village with good ripe sorghum cut down, and the heads or
ears all laid neatly in a row, this is to get it dried in the sun, and
not shaken out by the wind, by waving to and fro; besides it is also
more easily watched from being plundered by birds. The sorghum
occasionally does not yield seed, and is then the _Sorghum
saccharatum_, for the stalk contains abundance of sugar, and is much
relished by the natives. Now that so much has failed to yield seed,
being indeed just in flower, the stalks are chewed as if sugar-cane,
and the people are fat thereon; but the hungry time is in store when
these stalles are all done. They make the best provision in their
power against famine by planting beans and maize in moist spots. The
common native pumpkin forms a bastard sort in the same way, but that
is considered very inferior.

_6th June, 1866._--Great hills of granite are occasionally in sight
towards the north, but the trees, though scraggy, close in the view.
We left a village, called Mekosi, and goon came to a slaving party by
a sand stream. They said that they had bought two slaves, but they had
run away from them, and asked us to remain with them; more civil than
inviting. We came on to Makochera, the principal headman in this
quarter, and found him a merry laughing mortal, without any good looks
to recommend his genial smile,--low forehead, covered with deep
wrinkles; flat nose, somewhat of the Assyrian shape; a big mouth and
lean body. He complained of the Machinga (a Waiyau tribe north of him
and the Rovuma) stealing his people. Lat. of village, 11 deg. 22' 49" S.
The river being about 2' north, still shows that it makes a trend to
the north after we pass Ngomano. Makochera has been an elephant
hunter. Few acknowledge as a reason for slaving that sowing and
spinning cotton for clothing is painful. I waited some days for the
Nassick boys, who are behind, though we could not buy any food except
at enormous prices and long distances off.

_7th June, 1866._--The havildar and two sepoys came up with Abraham,
but Richard, a Nassick boy, is still behind from weakness. I sent
three off to help him with the only cordials we could muster. The
sepoys sometimes profess inability to come on, but it is unwillingness
to encounter hardship: I must move on whether they come or not, for we
cannot obtain food here. I sent the sepoys some cloth, and on the 8th
proposed to start, but every particle of food had been devoured the
night before, so we despatched two parties to scour the country round,
and give any price rather than want.

I could not prevail on Makochera to give me a specimen of poetry; he
was afraid, neither he nor his forefathers had ever seen an
Englishman. He thought that God was not good because He killed so many
people. Dr. Roscher must have travelled as an Arab if he came this
way, for he was not known.[10]

_9th June, 1866._--We now left and marched through the same sort of
forest, gradually ascending in altitude as we went west, then we came
to huge masses of granite, or syenite, with flakes peeling off. They
are covered with a plant with grassy-looking leaves and rough stalk
which strips into portions similar to what are put round candles as
ornaments. It makes these hills look light grey, with patches of
black rock at the more perpendicular parts; the same at about ten
miles off look dark blue. The ground is often hard and stony, but all
covered over with grass and plants: looking down at it, the grass is
in tufts, and like that on the Kalahari desert. Trees show uplands.
One tree of which bark cloth is made, pterocarpus, is abundant.
Timber-trees appear here and there, but for the most part the growth
is stunted, and few are higher than thirty feet. We spent the night by
a hill of the usual rounded form, called Njengo. The Rovuma comes
close by, but leaves us again to wind among similar great masses. Lat.
11 deg. 20' 05" S.

_10th June, 1866._--A very heavy march through the same kind of
country, no human habitation appearing; we passed a dead
body--recently, it was said, starved to death. The large tract between
Makochera's and our next station at Ngozo hill is without any
perennial stream; water is found often by digging in the sand streams
which we several times crossed; sometimes it was a trickling rill, but
I suspect that at other seasons all is dry, and people are made
dependent on the Rovuma alone. The first evidence of our being near
the pleasant haunts of man was a nice little woman drawing water at a
well. I had become separated from the rest: on giving me water she
knelt down, and, as country manners require, held it up to me with
_both_ hands. I had been misled by one of the carriers, who got
confused, though the rounded mass of Ngozo was plainly visible from
the heights we crossed east of it.

An Arab party bolted on hearing of our approach: they don't trust the
English, and this conduct increases our importance among the natives.
Lat. 11 deg. 18' 10" S.

_11th June, 1866._--Our carriers refuse to go further, because they
say that they fear being captured here on their return.

_12th June, 1866._--I paid off the carriers, and wait for a set from
this. A respectable man, called Makoloya, or Impande, visited me, and
wished to ask some questions as to where I was going, and how long I
should be away. He had heard from a man who came from Ibo, or Wibo,
about the Bible, a large book which was consulted.

[Illustration: Tattoo of Matambwe.]

_13th June, 1866._--Makoloya brought his wife and a little corn, and
says that his father told him that there is a God, but nothing more.
The marks on their foreheads and bodies are meant only to give beauty
in the dance, they seem a sort of heraldic ornament, for they can at
once tell by his tattoo to what tribe or portion of tribe a man
belongs. The tattoo or tembo of the Matambwe and Upper Makonde very
much resembles the drawings of the old Egyptians; wavy lines, such as
the ancients made to signify water, trees and gardens enclosed in
squares, seem to have been meant of old for the inhabitants who lived
on the Rovuma, and cultivated also, the son takes the tattoo of his
father, and thus it has been perpetuated, though the meaning now
appears lost. The Makoa have the half or nearly full moon, but it is,
they say, all for ornament. Some blue stuff is rubbed into the cuts (I
am told it is charcoal), and the ornament shows brightly in persons
of light complexion, who by the bye are common. The Makonde and
Matambwe file their front teeth to points; the Machinga, a Waiyan
tribe, leave two points on the sides of the front teeth, and knock out
one of the middle incisors above and below.

[Illustration: Machinga and Waiyan Teeth.]

_14th June, 1866._--I am now as much dependent on carriers as if I had
never bought a beast of burden--but this is poor stuff to fill a
journal with. We started off to Metaba to see if the chief there would
lend some men. The headman, Kitwanga, went a long way to convoy us;
then turned, saying he was going to get men for Musa next day. We
passed near the base of the rounded masses Ngozo and Mekanga, and
think, from a near inspection, that they are over 2000 feet above the
plain, possibly 3000 feet, and nearly bare, with only the peculiar
grassy plant on some parts which are not too perpendicular. The people
are said to have stores of grain on them, and on one the chief said
there is water; he knows of no stone buildings of the olden time in
the country. We passed many masses of ferruginous conglomerate, and I
noticed that most of the gneiss dips westwards. The striae seem as if
the rock had been partially molten: at times the strike is north and
south, at others east and west; when we come to what may have been its
surface, it is as if the striae had been stirred with a rod while
soft.

We slept at a point of the Rovuma, above a cataract where a reach of
comparatively still water, from 150 to 200 yards wide, allows a school
of hippopotami to live: when the river becomes fordable in many
places, as it is said to do in August and September, they must find it
difficult to exist.

_15th June, 1866._--Another three hours' march brought us from the
sleeping-place on the Rovuma to Metaba, the chief of which, Kinazombe,
is an elderly man, with a cunning and severe cast of countenance, and
a nose Assyrian in type; he has built a large reception house, in
which a number of half-caste Arabs have taken up their abode. A great
many of the people have guns, and it is astonishing to see the number
of slave-taming sticks abandoned along the road as the poor wretches
gave in, and professed to have lost all hope of escape. Many huts have
been built by the Arabs to screen themselves from the rain as they
travelled. At Kinazombe's the second crop of maize is ready, so the
hunger will not be very much felt.

_16th June, 1866._--We heard very sombre accounts of the country in
front:--four or five days to Mtarika, and then ten days through jungle
to Mataka's town: little food at Mtarika's, but plenty with Mataka,
who is near the Lake. The Rovuma trends southerly after we leave
Ngozo, and Masusa on that river is pointed out as south-west from
Metaba, so at Ngozo the river may be said to have its furthest
northing. Masusa is reported to be five days, or at least fifty miles,
from Metaba. The route now becomes south-west.

The cattle of Africa are like the Indian buffalo, only partially
tamed; they never give their milk without the presence of the calf or
its stuffed skin, the "fulchan." The women adjacent to Mozambique
partake a little of the wild animal's nature, for, like most members
of the inferior races of animals, they refuse all intercourse with
their husbands when enceinte and they continue this for about three
years afterwards, or until the child is weaned, which usually happens
about the third year. I was told, on most respectable authority, that
many fine young native men marry one wife and live happily with her
till this period; nothing will then induce her to continue to cohabit
with him, and, as the separation is to continue for three years, the
man is almost compelled to take up with another wife: this was
mentioned to me as one of the great evils of society. The same
absurdity prevails on the West Coast, and there it is said that the
men acquiesce from ideas of purity.

It is curious that trade-rum should form so important an article of
import on the West Coast while it is almost unknown on the East Coast,
for the same people began the commerce in both instances. If we look
north of Cape Delgado, we might imagine that the religious convictions
of the Arabs had something to do with the matter, but the Portuguese
south of Cape Delgado have no scruples in the matter, and would sell
their grandfathers as well as the rum if they could make money by the
transaction, they have even erected distilleries to furnish a vile
spirit from the fruit of the cashew and other fruits and grain, but
the trade does not succeed. They give their slaves also rewards of
spirit, or "maata bicho" ("kill the creature," or "craving within"),
and you may meet a man who, having had much intercourse with
Portuguese, may beg spirits, but the trade does not pay. The natives
will drink it if furnished gratis. The indispensable "dash" of rum on
the West Coast in every political transaction with independent chiefs
is, however, quite unknown. The Moslems would certainly not abstain
from trading in spirits were the trade profitable. They often asked
for brandy from me in a sly way--as medicine; and when reminded that
their religion forbade it, would say, "Oh, but we can drink it in
secret."

It is something in the nature of the people quite inexplicable, that
throughout the Makonde country hernia humoralis prevails to a
frightful extent; it is believed by the natives to be the result of
beer drinking, so they cannot be considered as abstemious.

_18th June, 1866._--Finding that Musa did not come up with the goods I
left in his charge, and fearing that all was not right, we set off
with all our hands who could carry, after service yesterday morning,
and in six hours' hard tramp arrived here just in time, for a tribe of
Wanindi, or Manindi, who are either Ajawas (Waiyau),[11] or pretended
Mazitu, had tried to cross the Rovuma from the north bank. They came
as plunderers, and Musa having received no assistance was now ready to
defend the goods. A shot or two from the people of Kitwanga made the
Wanindi desert after they had entered the water.

Six sepoys and Simon had come up this length; Reuben and Mabruki
reported Richard to be dead. This poor boy was left with the others at
Liponde, and I never saw him again. I observed him associating too
much with the sepoys; and often felt inclined to reprove him, as their
conversation is usually very bad, but I could not of my own knowledge
say so. He came on with the others as far as Hassane or Pachassane:
there he was too weak to come further, and as the sepoys were
notoriously skulkers, I feared that poor Richard was led away by them,
for I knew that they had made many attempts to draw away the other
Nassick boys from their duty. When, however, Abraham came up and
reported Richard left behind by the sepoys, I became alarmed, and sent
off three boys with cordials to help him on: two days after Abraham
left he seems to have died, and I feel very sorry that I was not there
to do what I could. I am told now that he never consented to the sepoy
temptation: he said to Abraham that he wished he were dead, he was so
much troubled. The people where he died were not v$ry civil to Simon.

The sepoys had now made themselves such an utter nuisance that I felt
that I must take the upper hand with them, so I called them up this
morning, and asked if they knew the punishment they had incurred by
disobeying orders, and attempting to tamper with the Nassick boys to
turn them back. I told them they not only remained in the way when
ordered to march, but offered eight rupees to Ali to lead them to the
coast, and that the excuse of sickness was nought, for they had eaten
heartily three meals a day while pretending illness. They had no
excuse to offer, so I disrated the naik or corporal, and sentenced the
others to carry loads; if they behave well, then they will get fatigue
pay for doing fatigue duty, if ill, nothing but their pay. Their limbs
are becoming contracted from sheer idleness; while all the other men
are well and getting stronger they alone are disreputably slovenly and
useless-looking. Their filthy habits are to be reformed, and if found
at their habit of sitting down and sleeping for hours on the march, or
without their muskets and pouches, they are to be flogged. I sent two
of them back to bring up two comrades, left behind yesterday. All who
have done work are comparatively strong.

[We may venture a word in passing on the subject of native recruits,
enlisted for service in Africa, and who return thither after a long
absence. All the Nassick boys were native-born Africans, and yet we
see one of them succumb immediately. The truth is that natives; under
these circumstances, are just as liable to the effects of malaria on
landing as Europeans, although it is not often that fever assumes a
dangerous form in such cases. The natives of the interior have the
greatest dread of the illnesses which they say are sure to be in store
for them if they visit the coast.]

_19th June, 1866._--I gave the sepoys light loads in order to inure
them to exercise and strengthen them, and they carried willingly so
long as the fright was on them, but when the fear of immediate
punishment wore off they began their skulking again. One, Perim,
reduced his load of about 20 lbs. of tea by throwing away the lead in
which it was rolled, and afterwards about 15 lbs. of the tea, thereby
diminishing our stock to 5 lbs.

[Dr. Livingstone's short stay in England in 1864-5 was mainly taken up
with compiling an account of his travels on the Zambesi and Shire:
during this time his mother expired in Scotland at a good old age.
When he went back to Africa he took with him, as part of his very
scanty travelling equipment, a number of letters which he received
from friends at different times in England, and he very often quoted
them when he had an opportunity of sending letters home. We come to an
entry at this time which shows that in these reminiscences he had not
thus preserved an unmixed pleasure. He says:--]

I lighted on a telegram to-day:--"Your mother died at noon on the 18th
June."

This was in 1865: it affected me not a little.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Further on we found it called Nkonya.

[10] It will be remembered that this German traveller was murdered
near Lake Nyassa. The native chiefs denounced his assassins, and sent
them to Zanzibar, where they were executed.--ED.

[11] Further westward amongst the Manganja or Nyassa people the Waiyan
tribe is called "Ajawa," and we find Livingstone always speaking of
them as Ajawas in his previous explorations on the River Rovuma. (See
'The Zambesi and its Tributaries.')--ED.




CHAPTER III.

    Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation.
    Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of
    Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's.
    Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of
    slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyan metropolis.
    Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen
    cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness
    of climate. The Waiyan people and their peculiarities. Regrets
    at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans.

_19th June, 1866._--We passed a woman tied by the neck to a tree and
dead, the people of the country explained that she had been unable to
keep up with the other slaves in a gang, and her master had determined
that she should not become the property of anyone else if she
recovered after resting for a time. I may mention here that we saw
others tied up in a similar manner, and one lying in the path shot or
stabbed[12], for she was in a pool of blood. The explanation we got
invariably was that the Arab who owned these victims was enraged at
losing his money by the slaves becoming unable to march, and vented
his spleen by murdering them; but I have nothing more than common
report in support of attributing this enormity to the Arabs.

_20th June, 1866._--Having returned to Metaba, we were told by
Kinazombe, the chief, that no one had grain to sell but himself. He
had plenty of powder and common cloth from the Arabs, and our only
chance with him was parting with our finer cloths and other things
that took his fancy. He magnified the scarcity in front in order to
induce us to buy all we could from him, but he gave me an ample meal
of porridge and guinea-fowl before starting.

_21st June, 1866._--We had difficulties about carriers, but on
reaching an island in the Rovuma, called Chimiki, we found the people
were Makoa and more civil and willing to work than the Waiyau: we sent
men back to bring up the havildar to a very civil headman called
Chirikaloma.

_22nd June, 1866._--A poor little boy with prolapsus ani was carried
yesterday by his mother many a weary mile, lying over her right
shoulder