How I Found Livingstone, Henry M. Stanley [best fantasy books to read txt] 📗

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for believing this are of such nature and weight as to compel him

to despise the warning that years are advancing on him, and his

former iron constitution is failing. He believes his speculations

on this point will be verified; he believes he is strong enough

to pursue his explorations until he can return to his country,

with the announcement that the Lualaba is none other than the Nile.

 

On discovering that the insignificant stream called the Chambezi,

which rises between 10 degrees S. and 12 degrees S., flowed

westerly, and then northerly through several lakes, now under

the names of the Chambezi, then as the Luapula, and then as the

Lualaba, and that it still continued its flow towards the north

for over 7 degrees, Livingstone became firmly of the opinion that

the river whose current he followed was the Egyptian Nile. Failing

at lat. 4 degrees S. to pursue his explorations further without

additional supplies, he determined to return to Ujiji to obtain them.

 

And now, having obtained them, he intends to return to the point

where he left off work. He means to follow that great river until

it is firmly established what name shall eventually be given the

noble water-way whose course he has followed through so many sick

toilings and difficulties. To all entreaties to come home, to all

the glowing temptations which home and innumerable friends offer,

he returns the determined answer:—

 

“No; not until my work is ended.”

 

I have often heard our servants discuss our respective merits.

“Your master,” say my servants to Livingstone’s, “is a good man—

a very good man; he does not beat you, for he has a kind heart;

but ours—oh! he is sharp—hot as fire”—“mkali sana, kana moto.”

From being hated and thwarted in every possible way by the Arabs

and half-castes upon first arrival in Ujiji, he has, through

his uniform kindness and mild, pleasant temper, won all hearts.

I observed that universal respect was paid to him. Even

the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling to pay

their compliments, and to say, “The blessing of God rest on

you.” Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him,

and reads prayers and a chapter from the Bible, in a natural,

unaffected, and sincere tone; and afterwards delivers a short

address in the Kisawahili language, about the subject read to them,

which is listened to with interest and attention.

 

There is another point in Livingstone’s character about which

readers of his books, and students of his travels, would like to

know, and that is his ability to withstand the dreadful climate of

Central Africa, and the consistent energy with which he follows up

his explorations. His consistent energy is native to him and to

his race. He is a very fine example of the perseverance,

doggedness, and tenacity which characterise the Anglo-Saxon

spirit; but his ability to withstand the climate is due not only

to the happy constitution with which he was born, but to the

strictly temperate life he has ever led. A drunkard and a man of

vicious habits could never have withstood the climate of Central

Africa.

 

The second day after my arrival in Ujiji I asked the Doctor if he

did not feel a desire, sometimes, to visit his country, and take

a little rest after his six years’ explorations; and the answer

he gave me fully reveals the man. Said he:

 

“I should like very much to go home and see my children once

again, but I cannot bring my heart to abandon the task I have

undertaken, when it is so nearly completed. It only requires

six or seven months more to trace the true source that I have

discovered with Petherick’s branch of the White Nile, or with

the Albert N’Yanza of Sir Samuel Baker, which is the lake

called by the natives `Chowambe.’ Why should I go home before

my task is ended, to have to come back again to do what I can

very well do now?”

 

“And why?” I asked, “did you come so far back without finishing

the task which you say you have got to do?”

 

“Simply because I was forced. My men would not budge a step

forward. They mutinied, and formed a secret resolution—if I still

insisted upon going on—to raise a disturbance in the country, and

after they had effected it to abandon me; in which case I should

have been killed. It was dangerous to go any further. I had

explored six hundred miles of the watershed, had traced all the

principal streams which discharge their waters into the central

line of drainage, but when about starting to explore the last

hundred miles the hearts of my people failed them, and they set

about frustrating me in every possible way. Now, having returned

seven hundred miles to get a new supply of stores, and another

escort, I find myself destitute of even the means to live but for

a few weeks, and sick in mind and body.”

 

Here I may pause to ask any brave man how he would have comported

himself in such a crisis. Many would have been in exceeding hurry

to get home to tell the news of the continued explorations and

discoveries, and to relieve the anxiety of the sorrowing family

and friends awaiting their return. Enough surely had been

accomplished towards the solution of the problem that had exercised

the minds of his scientific associates of the Royal Geograpical

Society. It was no negative exploration, it was hard, earnest

labor of years, self-abnegation, enduring patience, and exalted

fortitude, such as ordinary men fail to exhibit.

 

Suppose Livingstone had hurried to the coast after he had

discovered Lake Bangweolo, to tell the news to the geographical

world; then had returned to discover Moero, and run away again;

then went back once more only to discover Kamolondo, and to race

back again. This would not be in accordance with Livingstone’s

character. He must not only discover the Chambezi, Lake

Bangweolo, Luapula River, Lake Moero, Lualaba River, and Lake

Kamolondo, but he must still tirelessly urge his steps forward to

put the final completion to the grand lacustrine river system. Had

he followed the example of ordinary explorers, he would have been

running backwards and forwards to tell the news, instead of

exploring; and he might have been able to write a volume upon the

discovery of each lake, and earn much money thereby. They are

no few months’ explorations that form the contents of his books.

His `Missionary Travels’ embraces a period of sixteen years; his

book on the Zambezi, five years; and if the great traveller lives

to come home, his third book, the grandest of all, must contain the

records of eight or nine years.

 

It is a principle with Livingstone to do well what he undertakes to

do; and in the consciousness that he is doing it, despite the

yearning for his home which is sometimes overpowering, he finds,

to a certain extent, contentment, if not happiness. To men

differently constituted, a long residence amongst the savages

of Africa would be contemplated with horror, yet Livingstone’s mind

can find pleasure and food for philosophic studies. The wonders of

primeval nature, the great forests and sublime mountains, the

perennial streams and sources of the great lakes, the marvels of

the earth, the splendors of the tropic sky by day and by night—

all terrestrial and celestial phenomena are manna to a man of

such self-abnegation and devoted philanthropic spirit. He can

be charmed with the primitive simplicity of Ethiop’s dusky

children, with whom he has spent so many years of his life;

he has a sturdy faith in their capabilities; sees virtue

in them where others see nothing but savagery; and wherever

he has gone among them, he has sought to elevate a people

that were apparently forgotten of God and Christian man.

 

One night I took out my note-book, and prepared to take down

from his own lips what he had to say about his travels; and

unhesitatingly he related his experiences, of which the following

is a summary:

 

Dr. David Livingstone left the Island of Zanzibar in March, 1866.

On the 7th of the following month he departed from Mikindany Bay

for the interior, with an expedition consisting of twelve Sepoys

from Bombay, nine men from Johanna, of the Comoro Islands, seven

liberated slaves, and two Zambezi men, taking them as an

experiment; six camels, three buffaloes, two mules, and three

donkeys. He had thus thirty men with him, twelve of whom, viz.,

the Sepoys, were to act as guards for the Expedition. They were

mostly armed with the Enfield rifles presented to the Doctor by

the Bombay Government. The baggage of the expedition consisted

of ten bales of cloth and two bags of beads, which were to serve

as the currency by which they would be enabled to purchase the

necessaries of life in the countries the Doctor intended to visit.

Besides the cumbrous moneys, they carried several boxes of

instruments, such as chronometers, air thermometers, sextant,

and artificial horizon, boxes containing clothes, medicines,

and personal necessaries. The expedition travelled up the left

bank of the Rovuma River, a rout/e/ as full of difficulties as

any that could be chosen. For miles Livingstone and his party

had to cut their way with their axes through the dense and

almost impenetrable jungles which lined the river’s banks.

The road was a mere footpath, leading in the most erratic fashion

into and through the dense vegetation, seeking the easiest outlet

from it without any regard to the course it ran. The pagazis

were able to proceed easily enough; but the camels, on account

of their enormous height, could not advance a step without the

axes of the party clearing the way. These tools of foresters

were almost always required; but the advance of the expedition

was often retarded by the unwillingness of the Sepoys and

Johanna men to work.

 

Soon after the departure of the expedition from the coast,

the murmurings and complaints of these men began, and upon every

occasion and at every opportunity they evinced a decided

hostility to an advance. In order to prevent the progress of the

Doctor, and in hopes that it would compel him to return to the

coast, these men so cruelly treated the animals that before long

there was not one left alive. But as this scheme failed, they set

about instigating the natives against the white men, whom they

accused most wantonly of strange practices. As this plan was most

likely to succeed, and as it was dangerous to have such men with

him, the Doctor arrived at the conclusion that it was best to

discharge them, and accordingly sent the Sepoys back to the coast;

but not without having first furnished them with the means of

subsistence on their journey to the coast. These men were such a

disreputable set that the natives spoke of them as the Doctor’s

slaves. One of their worst sins was the custom of giving their

guns and ammunition to carry to the first woman or boy they met,

whom they impressed for that purpose by such threats or promises

as they were totally unable to perform, and unwarranted in making.

An hour’s marching was sufficient to fatigue them, after which

they lay down on the road to bewail their hard fate, and concoct

new schemes to frustrate their leader’s purposes. Towards night

they generally made their appearance at the camping-ground with

the looks of half-dead men. Such men naturally made but a poor

escort; for, had the party been attacked by a wandering tribe

of natives of any strength, the Doctor could have made no defence,

and no other alternative would have been left to him but to

surrender and be ruined.

 

The Doctor and his little party arrived