29th October, 1872.—Crossed the Thembwa Rivulet, twenty feet broad and knee deep, and sleep on its eastern bank. Fine cold water over stony bottom. The mountains now close in on Tanganyika, so there is no path but one, over which luggage cannot be carried. The stage after this is six hours up hill before we come to water. This forced me to stop after only a short crooked march of two and a quarter hours. We are now on the confines of Fipa. The next march takes us into Burungu.
30th October, 1872.—The highest parts of the mountains are from 500 feet to 700 feet higher than the passes, say from 1300 feet to 1500 feet above the Lake. A very rough march to-day; one cow fell, and was disabled. The stonesare collected in little heaps and rows, which shows that all these rough mountains were cultivated. We arrive at a village on the Lake shore. Kirila islet is about a quarter of a mile from the shore. The Megunda people cultivated these hills in former times. Thunder all the morning, and a few drops of rain fell. It will ease the men's feet when it does fall. They call out earnestly for it, "Come, come with hail!" and prepare their huts for it.
31st October, 1872.—Through a long pass after we had climbed over Winelao. Came to an islet one and a half mile long, called Kapessa, and then into a long pass. The population of Megunda must have been prodigious, for all the stones have been cleared, and every available inch of soil cultivated.
The population are said to have been all swept away by the Matuta.
Going south we came to a very large arm of the Lake, with a village at the end of it in a stockade. This arm is seven or eight miles long and about two broad. We killed a cow to-day, and found peculiar flat worms in the substance of the liver, and some that were rounded.
FOOTNOTES:[23]Without entering into the merits of a disputed point as to whether the men on their return journey would have been brought to a standstill at Unyanyembé but for the opportune presence of Lieutenant Cameron and his party, it will be seen nevertheless that this entry fully bears out the assertion of the men that they had cloth laid by in store here for the journey to the coast.It seems that by an unfortunate mistake a box of desiccated milk, of which the Doctor was subsequently in great need, was left behind amongst these goods. The last words written by him will remind one of the circumstance. On their return the unlucky box was the first thing that met Susi's eye!—ED.[24]Midday halt.[25]Sweet potatoes.
[23]Without entering into the merits of a disputed point as to whether the men on their return journey would have been brought to a standstill at Unyanyembé but for the opportune presence of Lieutenant Cameron and his party, it will be seen nevertheless that this entry fully bears out the assertion of the men that they had cloth laid by in store here for the journey to the coast.It seems that by an unfortunate mistake a box of desiccated milk, of which the Doctor was subsequently in great need, was left behind amongst these goods. The last words written by him will remind one of the circumstance. On their return the unlucky box was the first thing that met Susi's eye!—ED.
[23]Without entering into the merits of a disputed point as to whether the men on their return journey would have been brought to a standstill at Unyanyembé but for the opportune presence of Lieutenant Cameron and his party, it will be seen nevertheless that this entry fully bears out the assertion of the men that they had cloth laid by in store here for the journey to the coast.
It seems that by an unfortunate mistake a box of desiccated milk, of which the Doctor was subsequently in great need, was left behind amongst these goods. The last words written by him will remind one of the circumstance. On their return the unlucky box was the first thing that met Susi's eye!—ED.
[24]Midday halt.
[24]Midday halt.
[25]Sweet potatoes.
[25]Sweet potatoes.
False guides. Very difficult travelling. Donkey dies of tsetse bites. The Kasonso family. A hospitable chief. The River Lofu. The nutmeg tree. Famine. Ill. Arrives at Chama's town. A difficulty. An immense snake. Account of Casembe's death. The flowers of the Babisa country. Reaches the River Lopoposi. Arrives at Chituñkué's. Terrible marching. The Doctor is borne through the flooded country.
False guides. Very difficult travelling. Donkey dies of tsetse bites. The Kasonso family. A hospitable chief. The River Lofu. The nutmeg tree. Famine. Ill. Arrives at Chama's town. A difficulty. An immense snake. Account of Casembe's death. The flowers of the Babisa country. Reaches the River Lopoposi. Arrives at Chituñkué's. Terrible marching. The Doctor is borne through the flooded country.
1st November, 1872.—We hear that an eruption of Babemba, on the Baulungu, destroyed all the food. We tried to buy food here, but everything is hidden in the mountains, so we have to wait to-day till they fetch it. If in time, we shall make an afternoon's march. Raining to-day. The Eiver Mulu from Chingolao gave us much trouble in crossing from being filled with vegetation: it goes into Tanganyika. Our course south and east.
2nd November, 1872.—Deceived by a guide, who probably feared his countrymen in front. Went round a stony cape, and then to a land-locked harbour, three miles long by two broad. Here was a stockade, where our guide absconded. They told us that if we continued our march we should not get water for four hours, so we rested, having marched four and a quarter hours.
3rd November, 1872.—We marched this morning to a village where food was reported. I had to punish two useless men for calling out, "Posho! posho! posho!" (rations) as soon as I came near. One is a confirmed bangé-smoker;[26]the blows were given slightly, but I promised that the next should be severe. The people of Liemba village having a cow or two, and some sheep and goats, eagerly advised us to go on to the next village, as being just behind a hill, and well provisioned. Four very rough hills were the penalty of our credulity, taking four hours of incessant toil in these mountain fastnesses. They hide their food, and the paths are the most difficult that can be found, in order to wear out their enemies. To-day we got to the River Luazi, having marched five and a half hours, and sighting Tanganyika near us twice.
4th November, 1872.—All very tired. We tried to get food, but it is very dear, and difficult to bargain for. Goods are probably brought from Fipa. A rest will be beneficial to us.
5th November, 1872.—We went up a high mountain, but found that one of the cows could not climb up, so I sent back and ordered it to be slaughtered, waiting on the top of the mountain whilst the people went down for water.
6th November, 1872.—Pass a deep narrow bay and climb a steep mountain. Too much for the best donkey. After a few hours' climb we look down on the Lake, with its many bays. A sleepy glare floats over it. Further on we came on a ledge of rocks, and looked sheer down 500 feet or 600 feet into its dark green waters. We saw three zebras and a young python here, and fine flowers.
7th November, 1872, Sunday.—Remained, but the headman forbade his people to sell us food. We keep quiet except to invite him to a parley, which he refuses, and makes loud lullilooing in defiance, as if he were inclined to fighting. At last, seeing that we took no notice of him, he sent us a present; I returned three times its value.
8th November, 1872.—The large donkey is very ill, and unable to climb the high mountain in our front. I left men to coax him on, and they did it well. I then sent some to find a path out from the Lake mountains, for they will kill us all;others were despatched to buy food, but the Lake folks are poor except in fish.
Swifts in flocks were found on the Lake when we came to it, and there are small migrations of swallows ever since. Though this is the very hottest time of year, and all the plants are burnt off or quite dried, the flowers persist in bursting out of the hot dry surface, generally without leaves. A purple ginger, with two yellow patches inside, is very lovely to behold, and it is alternated with one of a bright canary yellow; many trees, too, put on their blossoms. The sun makes the soil so hot that the radiation is as if it came from a furnace. It burns the feet of the people, and knocks them up. Subcutaneous inflammation is frequent in the legs, and makes some of my most hardy men useless. We have been compelled to slowness very much against my will. I too was ill, and became better only by marching on foot. Riding exposes one to the bad influence of the sun, while by walking the perspiration modifies beneficially the excessive heat. It is like the difference in effect of cold if one is in activity or sitting, and falling asleep on a stage-coach. I know ten hot fountains north of the Orange River; the further north the more hot and numerous they become.
[Just here we find a note, which does not bear reference to anything that occurred at this time. Men, in the midst of their hard earnest toil, perceive great truths with a sharpness of outline and a depth of conviction which is denied to the mere idle theorist: he says:—]
The spirit of Missions is the spirit of our Master: the very genius of His religion. A diffusive philanthropy is Christianity itself. It requires perpetual propagation to attest its genuineness.
9th November, 1872.—We got very little food, and kill a calf to fill our mouths a little. A path east seems to lead out from these mountains of Tanganyika. We went on eastthis morning in highland open forest, then descended by a long slope to a valley in which there is water. Many Milenga gardens, but the people keep out of sight. The highlands are of a purple colour from the new leaves coming out. The donkey began to eat to my great joy. Men sent off to search for a village return empty-handed, and we must halt. I am ill and losing much blood.
10th November, 1872.—Out from the Lake mountains, and along high ridges of sandstone and dolomite. Our guide volunteered to take the men on to a place where food can be bought—a very acceptable offer. The donkey is recovering; it was distinctly the effects of tsetse, for the eyes and all the mouth and nostrils swelled. Another died at Kwihara with every symptom of tsetse poison fully developed.
[The above remarks on the susceptibility of the donkey to the bite of the tsetse fly are exceedingly important. Hitherto Dr. Livingstone had always maintained, as the result of his own observations, that this animal, at all events, could be taken through districts in which horses, mules, dogs, and oxen would perish to a certainty. With the keen perception and perseverance of one who was exploring Africa with a view to open it up for Europeans, he laid great stress on these experiments, and there is no doubt that the distinct result which he here arrived at must have a very significant bearing on the question of travel and transport.
Still passing through the same desolate country, we see that he makes a note on the forsaken fields and the watch-towers in them. Cucumbers are cultivated in large quantities by the natives of Inner Africa, and the reader will no doubt call to mind the simile adopted by Isaiah some 2500 years ago, as he pictured the coming desolation of Zion, likening her to a "lodge in a garden of cucumbers."[27]]
11th November, 1872.—Over gently undulating country, with many old gardens and watch-houses, some of great height, we reached the River Kalambo, which I know as falling into Tanganyika. A branch joins it at the village of Mosapasi; it is deep, and has to be crossed by a bridge, whilst the Kalambo is shallow, and say twenty yards wide, but it spreads out a good deal.
[Their journey of the12thand13thled them over low ranges of sandstone and hæmatite, and past several strongly stockaded villages. The weather was cloudy and showery—a relief, no doubt, after the burning heat of the last few weeks. They struck the Halochéché River, a rapid stream fifteen yards wide and thigh deep, on its way to the Lake, and arrived at Zombé's town, which is built in such a manner that the river runs through it, whilst a stiff palisade surrounds it. He says:—]
It was entirely surrounded by M'toka's camp, and a constant fight maintained at the point where the line of stakes was weakened by the river running through. He killed four of the enemy, and then Chitimbwa and Kasonso coming to help him, the siege was raised.
M'toka compelled some Malongwana to join him, and plundered many villages; he has been a great scourge. He also seems to have made an attack upon an Arab caravan, plundering it of six bales of cloth and one load of beads, telling them that if they wanted to get their things back they must come and help him conquer Zombé. The siege lasted three months, till the two brothers of Zombé, before-mentioned, came, and then a complete rout ensued. M'toka left nearly all his guns behind him; his allies, the Malongwana, had previously made their escape. It is two months since this rout, so we have been prevented by a kind Providence from coming soon enough. He was impudent andextortionate before, and much more now that he has been emboldened by success in plundering.
16th November, 1872.—After waiting some time for the men I sent men back yesterday to look after the sick donkey, they arrived, but the donkey died this morning. Its death was evidently caused by tsetse bite and bad usage by one of the men, who kept it forty-eight hours without water. The rain, no doubt, helped to a fatal end; it is a great loss to me.
17th November, 1872.—We went on along the bottom of a high ridge that flanks the Lake on the west, and then turned up south-east to a village hung on the edge of a deep chasm in which flows the Aeezy.
18th November, 1872.—We were soon overwhelmed in a pouring rain, and had to climb up the slippery red path which is parallel and near to Mbétté's. One of the men picked up a little girl who had been deserted by her mother. As she was benumbed by cold and wet he carried her; but when I came up he threw her into the grass. I ordered a man to carry her, and we gave her to one of the childless women; she is about four years old, and not at all negro-looking. Our march took us about S.W. to Kampamba's, the son of Kasonso, who is dead.
19th November, 1872.—I visited Kampamba. He is still as agreeable as he was before when he went with us to Liemba. I gave him two cloths as a present. He has a good-sized village. There are heavy rains now and then every day.
20th, 21st, and 23rd November, 1872.—The men turn to stringing beads for future use, and to all except defaulters I give a present of 2 dotis, and a handful of beads each. I have diminished the loads considerably, which pleases them much. We have now 3-1/2 loads of calico, and 120 bags of beads. Several go idle, but have to do any odd work, such as helping the sick or anything they are ordered to do. I gave the two Nassickers who lost the cow and calf only 1 doti, they were worth 14dotis. One of our men is behind, sick with dysentery. I am obliged to leave him, but have sent for him twice, and have given him cloth and beads.
24th November, 1872.—Left Kampamba's to-day, and cross a meadow S.E. of the village in which the River Muanani rises. It flows into the Kapondosi and so on to the Lake. We made good way with Kiteneka as our guide, who formerly accompanied Kampamba and ourselves to Liemba. We went over a flat country once covered with trees, but now these have all been cut down, say 4 to 5 feet from the ground, most likely for clearing, as the reddish soil is very fertile. Long lines of hills of denudation are in the distance, all directed to the Lake.
We came at last to Kasonso's successor's village on the River Molulwé, which is, say, thirty yards wide, and thigh deep. It goes to the Lofu. The chief here gave a sheep—a welcome present, for I was out of flesh for four days. Kampamba is stingy as compared with his father.
25th November, 1872.—We came in an hour's march to a rivulet called the Casembe—the departed Kasonso lived here. The stream is very deep, and flows slowly to the Lofu. Our path lay through much pollarded forest, troublesome to walk in, as the stumps send out leafy shoots.
26th November, 1872.—Started at daybreak. The grass was loaded with dew, and a heavy mist hung over everything. Passed two villages of people come out to cultivate this very fertile soil, which they manure by burning branches of trees. The Rivulet Loela flows here, and is also a tributary of the Lofu.
27th November, 1872.—As it is Sunday we stay here at N'dari's village, for we shall be in an uninhabited track to-morrow, beyond the Lofu. The headman cooked six messes for us and begged us to remain for more food, which we buy. He gave us a handsome present of flour and a fowl, for which I return him a present of a doti. Very heavy rain and high gusts of wind, which wet us all.
28th November, 1872.—We came to the River Lofu in a mile. It is sixty feet across and very deep. We made a bridge, and cut the banks down, so that the donkey and cattle could pass over. It took us two hours, during which time we hauled them all across with a rope. We were here misled by our guide, who took us across a marsh covered with tufts of grass, but with deep water between that never dries; there is a path which goes round it. We came to another village with a river which must be crossed—no stockade here, and the chief allowed us to camp in his town. There are long low lines of hills all about. A man came to the bridge to ask for toll-fee: as it was composed of one stick only, and unfit for our use because rotten, I agreed to pay provided he made it fit for our large company; but if I re-made and enlarged it, I said he ought to give me a goat for the labour. He slunk away, and we laid large trees across, where previously there was but one rotten pole.
29th November, 1872.—Crossed the Loozi in two branches, and climbed up the gentle ascent of Malembé to the village of Chiwé, whom I formerly called Chibwé, being misled by the Yao tongue. Ilamba is the name of the rill at his place. The Loozi's two branches were waist deep. The first was crossed by a natural bridge of a fig-tree growing across. It runs into the Lofu, which river rises in Isunga country at a mountain called Kwitetté. The Chambezé rises east of this, and at the same place as Louzua.
Chiwé presented a small goat with crooked legs and some millet flour, but he grumbled at the size of the fathom cloth I gave. I offered another fathom, and a bundle of needles, but he grumbled at this too, and sent it back. On this I returned his goat and marched.
[The road lay through the same country among low hills, for several miles, till they came on the1st Decemberto a rivulet called Lovu Katanta, where curiously enough theyfound a nutmeg-tree in full bearing. A wild species is found at Angola on the West Coast and it was probably of this description, and not the same species as that which is cultivated in the East. In two places he says:—]
Who planted the nutmeg-tree on the Katanta?
[Passing on with heavy rain pouring down, they now found themselves in the Wemba country, the low tree-covered hills exhibiting here and there "fine-grained schist and igneous rocks of red, white, and green colour."]
3rd December, 1872.—No food to be got on account of M'toka's and Tipo Tipo's raids.
A stupid or perverse guide took us away to-day N.W. or W.N.W. The villagers refused to lead us to Chipwité's, where food was to be had; he is S.W. 1-1/2 day off. The guide had us at his mercy, for he said, "If you go S.W. you will be five days without food or people." We crossed the Kañomba, fifteen yards wide, and knee deep. Here our guide disappeared, and so did the path. We crossed the Lampussi twice; it is forty yards wide, and knee deep; our course is W.N.W. for about 4-1/2 hours to-day. We camped and sent men to search for a village that has food. My third barometer (aneroid) is incurably injured by a fall, the man who carried it slipped upon a clayey path.
4th December, 1872.—Waiting for the return of our men in a green wooded valley on the Lampussi River. Those who were sent yesterday return without anything; they were directed falsely by the country people, where nought could be bought. The people themselves are living on grubs, roots, and fruits. The young plasterer Sphex is very fat on coming out of its clay house, and a good relish for food. A man came to us demanding his wife and child; they are probably in hiding; the slaves of Tipo Tipo have been capturing people. One sinner destroyeth much good!
5th December, 1872.—The people eat mushrooms and leaves. My men returned about 5 P.M. with two of Kafimbé's men bringing a present of food to me. A little was bought, and we go on to-morrow to sleep two nights on the way, and so to Kafimbé, who is a brother of Nsama's, and fights him.
6th December, 1872.—We cross the Lampussi again, and up to a mountain along which we go, and then down to some ruins. This took us five hours, and then with 2-1/4 more hours we reach Sintila. We hasten along as fast as hungry men (four of them sick) can go to get food.
1th December, 1872.—Off at 6.15 A.M. A leopard broke in upon us last night and bit a woman. She screamed, and so did the donkey, and it ran off. Our course lay along between two ranges of low hills, then, where they ended, we went by a good-sized stream thirty yards or so across, and then down into a valley to Kafimbé's.
8th December, 1872.—Very heavy rains. I visited Kafimbé. He is an intelligent and pleasant young man, who has been attacked several times by Kitandula, the successor of Nsama of Itawa, and compelled to shift from Motononga to this rivulet Motosi, which flows into the Kisi and thence into Lake Moero.
9th December, 1872.—Send off men to a distance for food, and wait of course. Here there is none for either love or money. To-day a man came from the Arab party at Kumba-Kumba's with a present of M'chelé and a goat. He reports that they have killed Casembe, whose people concealed from him the approach of the enemy till they were quite near. Having no stockade, he fell an easy prey to them. The conquerors put his head and all his ornaments on poles. His pretty wife escaped over Mofwé, and the slaves of the Arabs ran riot everywhere. We sent a return present of two dotis of cloth, one jorah of Kaniké, one doti of coloured cloth, three pounds of beads, and a paper of needles.
10th December, 1872.—Left Kafimbé's. He gave us three mento take us into Chama's village, and came a mile along the road with us. Our road took us by a winding course from one little deserted village to another.
11th December, 1872.—Being far from water we went two hours across a plain dotted with villages to a muddy rivulet called the Mukubwé (it runs to Moero), where we found the village of a nephew of Nsama. This young fellow was very liberal in gifts of food, and in return I gave him two cloths. An Arab, Juma bin Seff, sent a goat to-day. They have been riding it roughshod over all the inhabitants, and confess it.
12th December, 1872.—Marenza sent a present of dura flour and a fowl, and asked for a little butter as a charm. He seems unwilling to give us a guide, though told by Kafimbé to do so. Many Garaganza about: they trade in leglets, ivory, and slaves. We went on half-an-hour to the River Mokoé, which is thirty yards wide, and carries off much water into Malunda, and so to Lake Moero.
When palm-oil palms are cut down for toddy, they are allowed to lie three days, then the top shoot is cut off smoothly, and the toddy begins to flow; and it flows for a month, or a month and a half or so, lying on the soil.
[The note made on the following day is written with a feeble hand, and scarce one pencilled word tallies with its neighbour in form or distinctness—in fact, it is seen at a glance what exertion it cost him to write at all. He says no more than "Ill" in one place, but this is the evident explanation; yet with the same painstaking determination of old, the three rivers which they crossed have their names recorded, and the hours of marching and the direction are all entered in his pocket book.]
13th December, 1872.—Westward about by south, and crossed a river, Mokobwé, thirty-five yards. Ill, and after going S.W. camped in a deserted village, S.W. travelling five hours. River Mekanda 2nd. Meñomba 3, where we camp.
14th December, 1872.—Guides turned N.W. to take us to a son of Nsama, and so play the usual present into his hands. I objected when I saw their direction, but they said, "The path turns round in front." After going a mile along the bank of the Meñomba, which has much water, Susi broke through and ran south, till he got a S. by W. path, which we followed, and came to a village having plenty of food. As we have now camped in village, we sent the men off to recall the fugitive women, who took us for Komba-Komba's men. Crossed the Luperé, which runs into the Makobwé.
A leech crawling towards me in the village this morning elicited the Bemba idea that they fall from the clouds or sky—"mulu." It is called here "Mosunda a maluzé," or leech of the rivers; "Luba" is the Zanzibar name. In one place I counted nineteen leeches in our path, in about a mile; rain had fallen, and their appearance out of their hiding-places suddenly after heavy rain may have given rise to the idea of their fall with it as fishes do, and the thunder frog is supposed to do. Always too cloudy and rainy for observations of stars.
15th December, 1872.—The country is now level, covered with trees pollarded for clothing, and to make ashes of for manure. There are many deserted villages, few birds. Cross the Eiver Lithabo, thirty yards wide and thigh deep, running fast to the S.W., joined by a small one near. Reached village of Chipala, on the Rivulet Chikatula, which goes to Moipanza. The Lithabo goes to Kalongwesi by a S.W. course.
16th December, 1872.—Off at 6 A.M. across the Chikatula, and in three-quarters of an hour crossed the Lopanza, twelve yards wide and waist deep, being now in flood. The Lolela was before us in half-an-hour, eight yards wide and thigh deep, both streams perennial and embowered in tall umbrageous trees that love wet; both flow to the Kalongwesi.
We came to quite a group of villages having food, andremain, as we got only driblets in the last two camps. Met two Banyamwezi carrying salt to Lobemba, of Moambu. They went to Kabuiré for it, and now retail it on the way back.
At noon we got to the village of Kasiané, which is close to two rivulets, named Lopanza and Lolela. The headman, a relative of Nsama, brought me a large present of flour of dura, and I gave him two fathoms of calico.
Floods by these sporadic rainfalls have discoloured waters, as seen in Lopanza and Lolela to-day. The grass is all springing up quickly, and the Maleza growing fast. The trees generally in full foliage. Different shades of green, the dark prevailing; especially along rivulets, and the hills in the distance are covered with dark blue haze. Here, in Lobemba, they are gentle slopes of about 200 or 300 feet, and sandstone crops out over their tops. In some parts clay schists appear, which look as if they had been fused or were baked by intense heat.
The pugnacious spirit is one of the necessities of life. When people have little or none of it, they are subjected to indignity and loss. My own men walk into houses where we pass the nights without asking any leave, and steal cassava without shame. I have to threaten and thrash to keep them honest, while if we are at a village where the natives are a little pugnacious they are as meek as sucking doves. The peace plan involves indignity and wrong. I give little presents to the headmen, and to some extent heal their hurt sensibilities. This is indeed much appreciated, and produces profound hand-clapping.
17th December, 1872.—It looked rainy, but we waited half-an-hour, and then went on one hour and a half, when it set in and forced us to seek shelter in a village. The head of it was very civil, and gave us two baskets of cassava, and one of dura. I gave a small present first. The district is called Kisinga, and flanks the Kalongwezé.
18th December, 1872.—Over same flat pollarded forest until we reached the Kalongwesé Kiver on the right bank, and about a quarter of a mile east of the confluence of the Luéna or Kisaka. This side of the river is called Kisinga, the other is Chama's and Kisinga too. The Luena comes from Jangé in Casembe's land, or W.S.W. of this. The Kalongwesé comes from the S.E. of this, and goes away N.W. The donkey sends a foot every now and then through the roof of cavities made apparently by ants, and sinks down 18 inches or more and nearly falls. These covered hollows are right in the paths.
19th December, 1872.—So cloudy and wet that no observations can be taken for latitude and longitude at this real geographical point. The Kalongwesé is sixty or eighty yards wide and four yards deep, about a mile above the confluence of the Luéna. We crossed it in very small canoes, and swamped one twice, but no one was lost. Marched S. about 1-1/4 hour.
20th December, 1872.—Shut in by heavy clouds. Wait to see if it will clear up. Went on at 7.15, drizzling as we came near the Mozumba or chiefs stockade. A son of Chama tried to mislead us by setting out west, but the path being grass-covered I objected, and soon came on to the large clear path. The guide ran off to report to the son, but we kept on our course, and he and the son followed us. We were met by a party, one of whom tried to regale us by vociferous singing and trumpeting on an antelope's horn, but I declined the deafening honour. Had we suffered the misleading we should have come here to-morrow afternoon.
A wet bed last night, for it was in the canoe that was upset. It was so rainy that there was no drying it.
21st December, 1872.—Arrived at Chama's. Heavy clouds drifting past, and falling drizzle. Chama's brother tried to mislead us yesterday, in hopes of making us wander hopelessly and helplessly. Failing in this, from my refusal tofollow a grass-covered path, he ran before us to the chief's stockade, and made all the women flee, which they did, leaving their chickens damless. We gave him two handsome cloths, one for himself and one for Chama, and said we wanted food only, and would buy it. They are accustomed to the bullying of half-castes, who take what they like for nothing. They are alarmed at our behaviour to-day, so we took quiet possession of the stockade, as the place that they put us in was on the open defenceless plain. Seventeen human skulls ornament the stockade. They left their fowls, and pigeons. There was no bullying. Our women went in to grind food, and came out without any noise. This flight seems to be caused by the foolish brother of the chief, and it is difficult to prevent stealing by my horde. The brother came drunk, and was taking off a large sheaf of arrows, when we scolded and prevented him.
22nd December, 1872.—We crossed a rivulet at Chama's village ten yards wide and thigh deep, and afterwards in an hour and a half came to a sedgy stream which we could barely cross. We hauled a cow across bodily. Went on mainly south, and through much bracken.
23rd December, 1872.—Off at 6 A.M. in a mist, and in an hour and a quarter came to three large villages by three rills called Misangwa, and much sponge; went on to other villages south, and a stockade.
24th December, 1872.—Cloud in sky with drifting clouds from S. and S.W. Very wet and drizzling. Sent back Chama's arrows, as his foolish brother cannot use them against us now; there are 215 in the bundle. Passed the Lopopussi running west to the Lofubu about seven yards wide, it flows fast over rocks with heavy aquatic plants. The people are not afraid of us here as they were so distressingly elsewhere: we hope to buy food here.
25th December, 1872, Christmas Day.—I thank the good Lord for the good gift of His Son Christ Jesus our Lord. Slaughteredan ox, and gave a fundo and a half to each of the party. This is our great day, so we rest. It is cold and wet, day and night. The headman is gracious and generous, which is very pleasant compared with awe, awe, and refusing to sell, or stop to speak, or show the way.
The White Nile carrying forward its large quasi-tidal wave presents a mass of water to the Blue Nile, which acts as a buffer to its rapid flood. The White Nile being at a considerable height when the Blue rushes down its steep slopes, presents its brother Nile with a soft cushion into which it plunges, and is restrained by thevis inertiæof the more slowly moving river, and, both united, pass on to form the great inundation of the year in Lower Egypt. The Blue River brings down the heavier portion of the Nile deposit, while the White River comes down with the black finely divided matter from thousands of square miles of forest in Manyuema, which probably gave the Nile its name, and is in fact the real fertilizing ingredient in the mud that is annually left. Some of the rivers in Manyuema, as the Luia and Machila, are of inky blackness, and make the whole main stream of a very Nilotic hue. An acquaintance with these dark flowing rivers, and scores of rills of water tinged as dark as strong tea, was all my reward for plunging through the terrible Manyuema mud or "glaur."
26th December, 1872.—Along among the usual low tree-covered hills of red and yellow and green schists—paths wet and slippery. Came to the Lofubu, fifteen yards broad and very deep, water clear, flowing north-west to join Luéna or Kisaka, as the Lopopussi goes west too into Lofubu it becomes large as we saw. We crossed by a bridge, and the donkey swam with men on each side of him. We came to three villages on the other side with many iron furnaces. Wet and drizzling weather made us stop soon. A herd of buffaloes, scared by our party, rushed off and broke the trees in their hurry, otherwise there is no game or marks of game visible.
27th December, 1872.—Leave the villages on the Lofubu. A cascade comes down on our left. The country undulating deeply, the hills, rising at times 300 to 400 feet, are covered with stunted wood. There is much of the common bracken fern and hart's-tongue. We cross one rivulet running to the Lofubu, and camp by a blacksmith's rill in the jungle. No rain fell to-day for a wonder, but the lower tier of clouds still drifts past from N.W.
I killed a Naia Hadje snake seven feet long here, he reared up before me and turned to fight. The under north-west stratum of clouds is composed of fluffy cottony masses, the edges spread out as if on an electrical machine—the upper or south-east is of broad fields like striated cat's hair. The N.W. flies quickly, the S.E. slowly away where the others come from. No observations have been possible through most of this month. People assert that the new moon will bring drier weather, and the clouds are preparing to change the N.W. lower stratum into S.E., ditto, ditto, and the N.W. will be the upper tier.
A man, ill and unable to come on, was left all night in the rain, without fire. We sent men back to carry him. Wet and cold. We are evidently ascending as we come near the Chambezé. The N.E. clouds came up this morning to meet the N.W. and thence the S.E. came across as if combating the N.W. So as the new moon comes soon, it may be a real change to drier weather.
4 P.M.—The man carried in here is very ill; we must carry him to-morrow.
29th December, 1872.—Our man Chipangawazi died last night and was buried this morning. He was a quiet good man, his disease began at Kampamba's. New moon last night.
29th, or 1st January, 1873.—I am wrong two days.
29th December, 1872.—After the burial and planting four branches of Moriñga at the corners of the grave we went on southwards 3-1/4 hours to a river, the Luongo, running stronglywest and south to the Luapula, then after one hour crossed it, twelve yards wide and waist deep. We met a man with four of his kindred stripping off bark to make bark-cloth: he gives me the above information about the Luongo.
1st January, 1873. (30th.)—Came on at 6 A.M. very cold. The rains have ceased for a time. Arrive at the village of the man who met us yesterday. As we have been unable to buy food, through the illness and death of Chipangawazi, I camp here.
2nd January, 1873.—Thursday—Wednesday was the 1st, I was two days wrong.
3rd January, 1873.—The villagers very anxious to take us to the west to Chikumbi's, but I refused to follow them, and we made our course to the Luongo. Went into the forest south without a path for 1-1/2 hour, then through a flat forest, much fern and no game. We camped in the forest at the Situngula Rivulet. A little quiet rain through the night. A damp climate this—lichens on all the trees, even on those of 2 inches diameter. Our last cow died of injuries received in crossing the Lofubu. People buy it for food, so it is not an entire loss.
4th January, 1873.—March south one hour to the Lopoposi or Lopopozi stream of 25 or 30 feet, and now breast deep, flowing fast southwards to join the Chambezé. Camped at Ketebé's at 2 P.M. on the Rivulet Kizima after very heavy rain.
5th January, 1873.—A woman of our party is very ill; she will require to be carried to-morrow.
6th January, 1873.—Ketebé or Kapesha very civil and generous. He sent three men to guide us to his elder brother Chungu. The men drum and sing harshly for him continually. I gave him half-a-pound of powder, and he lay on his back rolling and clapping his hands, and all his men lulliloed; then he turned on his front, and did the same. The men are very timid—no wonder, the Arab slaves do as they choose with them. The women burst outthrough, the stockade in terror when my men broke into a chorus as they were pitching my tent. Cold, cloudy, and drizzling. Much cultivation far from the stockades.
The sponges here are now full and overflowing, from the continuous and heavy rains. Crops of mileza, maize, cassava, dura, tobacco, beans, ground-nuts, are growing finely. A border is made round each patch, manured by burning the hedge, and castor-oil plants, pumpkins, calabashes, are planted in it to spread out over the grass.
7th January, 1873.—A cold rainy day keeps us in a poor village very unwillingly. 3 P.M. Fair, after rain all the morning—on to the Rivulet Kamalopa, which runs to Kamolozzi and into Kapopozi.
8th January, 1873.—Detained by heavy continuous rains in the village Moenje. We are near Lake Bangweolo and in a damp region. Got off in the afternoon in a drizzle; crossed a rill six feet wide, but now very deep, and with large running sponges on each side; it is called the Kamalopa, then one hour beyond came to a sponge, and a sluggish rivulet 100 yards broad with broad sponges on either bank waist deep, and many leeches. Came on through flat forest as usual S.W. and S.
[We may here call attention to the alteration of the face of the country and the prominent notice of "sponges." His men speak of the march from this point as one continual plunge in and out of morass, and through rivers which were only distinguishable from the surrounding waters by their deep currents and the necessity for using canoes. To a man reduced in strength and chronically affected with dysenteric symptoms ever likely to be aggravated by exposure, the effect may be well conceived! It is probable that had Dr. Livingstone been at the head of a hundred picked Europeans, every man would have been down within the next fortnight. As it is, we cannot help thinking of his company of followers, who must have been well led and under themost thorough control to endure these marches at all, for nothing cows the African so much as rain. The next day's journey may be taken as a specimen of the hardships every one had to endure:—]
9th January, 1873.—Mosumba of Chungu. After an hour we crossed the rivulet and sponge of Nkulumuna, 100 feet of rivulet and 200 yards of flood, besides some 200 yards of sponge full and running off; we then, after another hour, crossed the large rivulet Lopopozi by a bridge which was 45 feet long, and showed the deep water; then 100 yards of flood thigh deep, and 200 or 300 yards of sponge. After this we crossed two rills called Liñkanda and their sponges, the rills in flood 10 or 12 feet broad and thigh deep. After crossing the last we came near the Mosumba, and received a message to build our sheds in the forest, which we did.
Chungu knows what a nuisance a Safari (caravan) makes itself. Cloudy day, and at noon heavy rain from N.W. The headman on receiving two cloths said he would converse about our food and show it to-morrow. No observations can be made, from clouds and rain.
10th January, 1873.—Mosumba of Chungu. Rest to-day and get an insight into the ford: cold rainy weather. When we prepared to visit Chungu, we received a message that he had gone to his plantations to get millet. He then sent for us at 1 P.M. to come, but on reaching the stockade we heard a great Kelélé, or uproar, and found it being shut from terror. We spoke to the inmates but in vain, so we returned. Chungu says that we should put his head on a pole like Casembe's! We shall go on without him to-morrow. The terror guns have inspired is extreme.
11th January, 1873.—Chungu sent a goat and big basket of flour, and excused his fears because guns had routed Casembe and his head was put on a pole; it was his young men that raised the noise. We remain to buy food, as there is scarcityat Mombo, in front. Cold and rainy weather, never saw the like; but this is among the sponges of the Nile and near the northern shores of Bangweolo.
12th January, 1873.—A dry day enabled us to move forward an hour to a rivulet and sponge, but by ascending it we came to its head and walked over dryshod, then one hour to another broad rivulet—Pinda, sluggish, and having 100 yards of sponge on each side. This had a stockaded village, and the men in terror shut the gates. Our men climbed over and opened them, but I gave the order to move forward through flat forest till we came to a running rivulet of about twenty feet, but with 100 yards of sponge on each side. The white sand had come out as usual and formed the bottom. Here we entered a village to pass the night. We passed mines of fine black iron ore ("motapo"); it is magnetic.
13th January, 1873.—Storm-stayed by rain and cold at the village on the Rivulet Kalambosi, near the Chambezé. Never was in such a spell of cold rainy weather except in going to Loanda in 1853. Sent back for food.
14th January, 1873.—Went on dry S.E. and then S. two hours to River Mozinga, and marched parallel to it till we came to the confluence of Kasié. Mosinga, 25 feet, waist deep, with 150 yards of sponge on right bank and about 50 yards on left. There are many plots of cassava, maize, millet, dura, ground-nuts, voandzeia, in the forest, all surrounded with strong high hedges skilfully built, and manured with wood ashes. The villagers are much afraid of us. After 4-1/2 hours we were brought up by the deep rivulet Mpanda, to be crossed to-morrow in canoes. There are many flowers in the forest: marigolds, a white jonquil-looking flower without smell, many orchids, white, yellow, and pink Asclepias, with bunches of French-white flowers, clematis—Methonica gloriosa, gladiolus, and blue and deep purple polygalas, grasses with white starry seed-vessels, and spikelets of brownish red and yellow. Besides these there are beautifulblue flowering bulbs, and new flowers of pretty delicate form and but little scent. To this list may be added balsams, compositæ of blood-red colour and of purple; other flowers of liver colour, bright canary yellow, pink orchids on spikes thickly covered all round, and of three inches in length; spiderworts of fine blue or yellow or even pink. Different coloured asclepedials; beautiful yellow and red umbelliferous flowering plants; dill and wild parsnips; pretty flowery aloes, yellow and red, in one whorl of blossoms; peas, and many other flowering plants which I do not know. Very few birds or any kind of game. The people are Babisa, who have fled from the west and are busy catching fish in basket traps.
15th January, 1873.—Found that Chungu had let us go astray towards the Lake, and into an angle formed by the Mpandé and Lopopussi, and the Lake-full of rivulets which are crossed with canoes. Chisupa, a headman on the other side of the Mpanda, sent a present and denounced Chungu for heartlessness. We explained to one man our change of route and went first N.E., then E. to the Monsinga, which we forded again at a deep place full of holes and rust-of-iron water, in which we floundered over 300 yards. We crossed a sponge thigh deep before we came to the Mosinga, then on in flat forest to a stockaded village; the whole march about east for six hours.
16th January, 1873.—Away north-east and north to get out of the many rivulets near the Lake back to the River Lopopussi, which now looms large, and must be crossed in canoes. We have to wait in a village till these are brought, and have only got 1-3/4 hour nearly north.
We were treated scurvily by Chungu. He knew that we were near the Chambezé, but hid the knowledge and himself too. It is terror of guns.
17th January, 1873.—We are troubled for want of canoes, but have to treat gently with the owners, otherwise they wouldall run away, as they have around Chungu's, in the belief that we should return to punish their silly headman. By waiting patiently yesterday, we drew about twenty canoes towards us this morning, but all too small for the donkey, so we had to turn away back north-west to the bridge above Chungu's. If we had tried to swim the donkey across alongside a canoe it would have been terribly strained, as the Lopopussi is here quite two miles wide and full of rushes, except in the main stream. It is all deep, and the country being very level as the rivulets come near to the Lake, they become very broad. Crossed two sponges with rivulets in their centre.
Much cultivation in the forest. In the second year the mileza and maize are sickly and yellow white; in the first year, with fresh wood ashes, they are dark green and strong. Very much of the forest falls for manure. The people seem very eager cultivators. Possibly mounds have the potash brought up in forming.
18th January, 1873.—We lost a week by going to Chungu (a worthless terrified headman), and came back to the ford of Lopopussi, which we crossed, only from believing him to be an influential man who would explain the country to us. We came up the Lopopussi three hours yesterday, after spending two hours in going down to examine the canoes. We hear that Sayde bin Ali is returning from Katanga with much ivory.
19th January, 1873.—After prayers we went on to a fine village, and on from it to the Mononsé, which, though only ten feet of deep stream flowing S., had some 400 yards of most fatiguing, plunging, deep sponge, which lay in a mass of dark-coloured rushes, that looked as if burnt off: many leeches plagued us. We were now two hours out. We went on two miles to another sponge and village, but went round its head dryshod, then two hours more to sponge Lovu. Flat forest as usual.
20th January, 1873.—Tried to observe lunars in vain; clouded over all, thick and muggy. Came on disappointed and along the Lovu 1-1/2 mile. Crossed it by a felled tree lying over it. It is about six feet deep, with 150 yards of sponge. Marched about 2-1/2 hours: very unsatisfactory progress.
[In answer to a question as to whether Dr. Livingstone could possibly manage to wade so much, Susi says that he was carried across these sponges and the rivulets on the shoulders of Chowpéré or Chumah.]
21st January, 1873.—Fundi lost himself yesterday, and we looked out for him. He came at noon, having wandered in the eager pursuit of two herds of eland; having seen no game for a long time, he lost himself in the eager hope of getting one. We went on 2-1/2 hours, and were brought up by the River Malalanzi, which is about 15 feet wide, waist deep, and has 300 yards or more of sponge. Guides refused to come as Chituñkùe, their headman, did not own them. We started alone: a man came after us and tried to mislead us in vain.
22nd January, 1873.—We pushed on through many deserted gardens and villages, the man evidently sent to lead us astray from our S.E. course; he turned back when he saw that we refused his artifice. Crossed another rivulet, possibly the Lofu, now broad and deep, and then came to another of several deep streams but sponge, not more than fifty feet in all. Here we remained, having travelled in fine drizzling rain all the morning. Population all gone from the war of Chitoka with this Chituñkùe.
No astronomical observations worth naming during December and January; impossible to take any, owing to clouds and rain.
It is trying beyond measure to be baffled by the natives lying and misleading us wherever they can. They fear usvery, greatly, and with a terror that would gratify an anthropologist's heart. Their unfriendliness is made more trying by our being totally unable to observe for our position. It is either densely clouded, or continually raining day and night. The country is covered with brackens, and rivulets occur at least one every hour of the march. These are now deep, and have a broad selvage of sponge. The lower stratum of clouds moves quickly from the N.W.; the upper move slowly from S.E., and tell of rain near.
23rd January, 1873.—We have to send back to villages of Chituñkùe to buy food. It was not reported to me that the country in front was depopulated for three days, so I send a day back. I don't know where we are, and the people are deceitful in their statements; unaccountably so, though we deal fairly and kindly. Rain, rain, rain as if it never tired on this watershed. The showers show little in the gauge, but keep everything and every place wet and sloppy.
Our people return with a wretched present from Chituñkùe; bad flour and a fowl, evidently meant to be rejected. He sent also an exorbitant demand for gunpowder, and payment of guides. I refused his present, and must plod on without guides, and this is very difficult from the numerous streams.