How I Found Livingstone by Henry M. Stanley (read after .txt) 📖

various

experiences, so as to show them properly as they occurred to us;

and as these extracts were written and recorded at the close of

each day, they possess more interest, in my opinion, than a cold

relation of facts, now toned down in memory.

 

October 31st. Tuesday.—Our road led E.N.E. for a considerable

time after leaving the base of the triangular mountain whereon the

son of Nzogera has established his stronghold, in order to avoid a

deep and impassable portion of marsh, that stood between us and the

direct route to the Malagarazi River. The valley sloped rapidly

to this marsh, which received in its broad bosom the drainage of

three extensive ranges. Soon we turned our faces northwest, and

prepared to cross the marsh; and the guides informed us, as we

halted on its eastern bank, of a terrible catastrophe which

occurred a few yards above where we were preparing to cross.

They told of an Arab and his caravan, consisting of thirty-five

slaves, who had suddenly sunk out of sight, and who were never

more heard of. This marsh, as it appeared to us, presented a

breadth of some hundreds of yards, on which grew a close network

of grass, with much decayed matter mixed up with it. In the

centre of this, and underneath it, ran a broad, deep, and rapid

stream. As the guides proceeded across, the men stole after

them with cautious footsteps. As they arrived near the centre

we began to see this unstable grassy bridge, so curiously provided

by nature for us, move up and down in heavy languid undulations,

like the swell of the sea after a storm. Where the two asses of

the Expedition moved, the grassy waves rose a foot high; but suddenly

one unfortunate animal plunged his feet through, and as he was

unable to rise, he soon made a deep hollow, which was rapidly filling

with water. With the aid of ten men, however, we were enabled to

lift him bodily up and land him on a firmer part, and guiding them

both across rapidly, the entire caravan crossed without accident.

 

On arriving at the other side, we struck off to the north, and

found ourselves in a delightful country, in every way suitable

for agriculturists. Great rocks rose here and there, but in their

fissures rose stately trees, under whose umbrage nestled the

villages of the people. We found the various village elders greedy

for cloth, but the presence of the younger son of Nzogera’s men

restrained their propensity for extortion. Goats and sheep were

remarkably cheap, and in good condition; and, consequently, to

celebrate our arrival near the Malagarazi, a flock of eight goats

was slaughtered, and distributed to the men.

 

November 1st.—Striking northwest, after leaving our camp, and

descending the slope of a mountain, we soon beheld the anxiously

looked-for Malagarazi, a narrow but deep stream, flowing through

a valley pent in by lofty mountains. Fish-eating birds lined the

trees on its banks; villages were thickly scattered about. Food

was abundant and cheap.

 

After travelling along the left bank of the river a few miles, we

arrived at the settlements recognizing Kiala as their ruler. I had

anticipated we should be able at once to cross the river, but

difficulties arose. We were told to camp, before any negotiations

could be entered into. When we demurred, we were informed we might

cross the river if we wished, but we should not be assisted by any

Mvinza.

 

Being compelled to halt for this day, the tent was pitched in the

middle of one of the villages, and the bales were stored in one of

the huts, with four soldiers to guard them. After despatching an

embassy to Kiala, eldest son of the great chief Nzogera, to

request permission to cross the river as a peaceable caravan, Kiala

sent word that the white man should cross his river after the

payment of fifty-six cloths! Fifty-six cloths signified a bale

nearly!

 

Here was another opportunity for diplomacy. Bombay and Asmani

were empowered to treat with Kiala about the honga, but it was not

to exceed twenty-five doti. At 6 A.M., having spoken for seven

hours, the two men returned, with the demand for thirteen doti for

Nzogera, and ten doti for Kiala. Poor Bombay was hoarse, but

Asmani still smiled; and I relented, congratulating myself that

the preposterous demand, which was simply robbery, was no worse.

 

Three hours later another demand was made. Kiala had been visited

by a couple of chiefs from his father; and the chiefs being told

that a white man was at the ferry, put in a claim for a couple of

guns and a keg of gunpowder. But here my patience was exhausted,

and I declared that they should have to take them by force, for I

would never consent to be robbed and despoiled after any such

fashion.

 

Until 11 P.M., Bombay and Asmani were negotiating about this extra

demand, arguing, quarreling, threatening, until Bombay declared

they would talk him mad if it lasted much longer. I told Bombay

to take two cloths, one for each chief, and, if they did not

consider it enough, then I should fight. The present was taken,

and the negotiations were terminated at midnight.

 

November 2nd.—Ihata Island, one and a half hour west of Kiala’s.

We arrived before the Island of Ihata, on the left bank of the

Malagarazi, at 5 p.m.; the morning having been wasted in puerile

talk with the owner of the canoes at the ferry. The final demand

for ferriage across was eight yards of cloth and four fundo* of

sami-sami, or red beads; which was at once paid. Four men, with

their loads, were permitted to cross in the small, unshapely, and

cranky canoes. When the boatmen had discharged their canoes of

their passengers and cargoes, they were ordered to halt on the

other side, and, to my astonishment, another demand was made. The

ferrymen had found that two fundo of these were of short measure,

and two fundo more must be paid, otherwise the contract for

ferrying us across would be considered null and void. So two fundo

more were added, but not without demur and much “talk,” which in

these lands is necessary.

 

** 4 fundo == 40 necklaces; 1 fundo being 10 necklaces.

 

Three times the canoes went backwards and forwards, when, lo!

another demand was made, with the usual clamour and fierce wordy

dispute; this time for five khete # for the man who guided us to

the ferry, a shukka of cloth for a babbler, who had attached

himself to the old-womanish Jumah, who did nothing but babble and

increase the clamor. These demands were also settled.

 

# Necklaces.

 

About sunset we endeavoured to cross the donkeys. “Simba,” a fine

wild Kinyamwezi donkey, went in first, with a rope attached to his

neck. He had arrived at the middle of the stream when we saw

him begin to struggle—a crocodile had seized him by the throat.

The poor animal’s struggles were terrific. Chowpereh was dragging

on the rope with all his might, but to no use, for the donkey sank,

and we saw no more of him. The depth of the river at this place was

about fifteen feet. We had seen the light-brown heads, the glittering

eyes, and the ridgy backs, hovering about the vicinity, but we had

never thought that the reptiles would advance so near such an exciting

scene as the vicinity of the ferry presented during the crossing.

Saddened a little by this loss, we resumed our work, and by 7 P.M.

we were all across, excepting Bombay and the only donkey now left,

which was to be brought across in the morning, when the crocodiles

should have deserted the river.

 

November 3rd.—What contention have we not been a witness to these

last three days! What anxiety have we not suffered ever since our

arrival in Uvinza! The Wavinza are worse than the Wagogo, and their

greed is more insatiable. We got the donkey across with the aid of

a mganga, or medicine man, who spat some chewed leaves of a tree

which grows close to the stream over him. He informed me he could

cross the river at any time, day or night, after rubbing his body

with these chewed leaves, which he believed to be a most potent medicine.

 

About 10 A.M. appeared from the direction of Ujiji a caravan of

eighty Waguhha, a tribe which occupies a tract of country on the

south-western side of the Lake Tanganika. We asked the news, and

were told a white man had just arrived at Ujiji from Manyuema.

This news startled us all.

 

“A white man?” we asked.

 

“Yes, a white man,” they replied.

 

“How is he dressed?”

 

“Like the master,” they answered, referring to me.

 

“Is he young, or old?”

 

“He is old. He has white hair on his face, and is sick.”

 

“Where has he come from?”

 

“From a very far country away beyond Uguhha, called Manyuema.”

 

“Indeed! and is he stopping at Ujiji now?”

 

“Yes, we saw him about eight days ago.”

 

“Do you think he will stop there until we see him?”

 

“Sigue” (don’t know).

 

“Was he ever at Ujiji before?”

 

“Yes, he went away a long time ago.”

 

Hurrah! This is Livingstone! He must be Livingstone! He can be

no other; but still;—he may be some one else—some one from the

West Coast—or perhaps he is Baker! No; Baker has no white hair

on his face. But we must now march quick, lest he hears we are

coming, and runs away.

 

I addressed my men, and asked them if they were willing to march

to Ujiji without a single halt, and then promised them, if they

acceded to my wishes, two doti each man. All answered in the

affirmative, almost as much rejoiced as I was myself. But I was

madly rejoiced; intensely eager to resolve the burning question,

“Is it Dr. David Livingstone?” God grant me patience, but I do

wish there was a railroad, or, at least, horses in this country.

 

We set out at once from the banks of the Malagarazi, accompanied

by two guides furnished us by Usenge, the old man of the ferry,

who, now that we had crossed, showed himself more amiably disposed

to us. We arrived at the village of Isinga, Sultan Katalambula,

after a little over an hour’s march across a saline plain, but

which as we advanced into the interior became fertile and productive.

 

November 4th.—Started early with great caution, maintaining deep

silence. The guides were sent forward, one two hundred yards ahead

of the other, that we might be warned in time. The first part of

the march was through a thin jungle of dwarf trees, which got thinner

and thinner until finally it vanished altogether, and we had

entered Uhha—a plain country. Villages were visible by the score

among the tall bleached stalks of dourra and maize. Sometimes three,

sometimes five, ten, or twenty beehive-shaped huts formed a village.

The Wahha were evidently living in perfect security, for not one

village amongst them all was surrounded with the customary

defence of an African village. A narrow dry ditch formed the only

boundary between Uhha and Uvinza. On entering Uhha, all danger

from Makumbi vanished.

 

We halted at Kawanga, the chief of which lost no time in making us

understand that he was the great Mutware of Kimenyi under the king,

and that he was the tribute gatherer for his Kiha majesty. He

declared that he was the only one in Kimenyi—an eastern division

of Uhha—who could demand tribute; and that it would be very

satisfactory to him, and a saving of trouble to ourselves, if we

settled his claim of twelve