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

on ethics, we proceeded on our voyage, steering for Cape

Sentakeyi, which, though it was eight or ten miles away, we hoped

to make before dark. The Wangwana pulled with right good will, but

ten hours went by, and night was drawing near, and we were still

far from Sentakeyi. As it was a fine moonlight night, and we were

fully alive to the dangerous position in which we might find

ourselves, they consented to pull an hour or two more. About 1 P.M.,

we pulled in shore for a deserted spot—a clean shelf of sand,

about thirty feet long by ten deep, from which a clay bank rose

about ten or twelve feet above, while on each side there were

masses of disintegrated rock. Here we thought, that by preserving

some degree of silence, we might escape observation, and consequent

annoyance, for a few hours, when, being rested, we might continue

our journey. Our kettle was boiling for tea, and the men had built

a little fire for themselves, and had filled their black earthen pot

with water for porridge, when our look-outs perceived dark forms

creeping towards our bivouac. Being hailed, they at once came

forward, and saluted us with the native “Wake.” Our guides

explained that we were Wangwana, and intended to camp until morning,

when, if they had anything to sell, we should be glad to trade with

them. They said they were rejoiced to hear this, and after they had

exchanged a few words more—during which time we observed that they

were taking mental notes of the camp—they went away. Upon leaving,

they promised to return in the morning with food, and make friends

with us. While drinking our tea, the look-outs warned us of the

approach of a second party, which went through the same process of

saluting and observing as the first had done. These also went away,

over-exuberant, as I thought, and were shortly succeeded by a

third party, who came and went as the others had. From all this we

inferred that the news was spreading rapidly through the villages

about, and we had noticed two canoes passing backwards and forwards

with rather more haste than we deemed usual or necessary. We had

good cause to be suspicious; it is not customary for people (at

least, between Ujiji and Zanzibar) to be about visiting and

saluting after dark, under any pretence; it is not permitted to

persons to prowl about camp after dark without being shot at; and

this going backward and forward, this ostentatious exuberance of

joy at the arrival of a small party of Wangwana, which in many

parts of Urundi would be regarded as a very common event, was

altogether very suspicious. While the Doctor and I were arriving

at the conclusion that these movements were preliminary to or

significant of hostility, a fourth body, very boisterous and loud,

came and visited us. Our supper had been by this time despatched,

and we thought it high time to act. The fourth party having gone

with extravagant manifestations of delight, the men were hurried

into the canoe, and, when all were seated, and the look-outs embarked,

we quietly pushed off, but not a moment too soon. As the canoe

was gliding from the darkened light that surrounded us, I called

the Doctor’s attention to several dark forms; some of whom were

crouching behind the rocks on our right, and others scrambling

over them to obtain good or better positions; at the same time

people were approaching from the left of our position, in the

same suspicious way; and directly a voice hailed us from the

top of the clay bank overhanging the sandy shelf where we had

lately been resting. “Neatly done,” cried the Doctor, as we

were shooting through the water, leaving the discomfited

would-be robbers behind us. Here, again, my hand was stayed from

planting a couple of good shots, as a warning to them in future

from molesting strangers, by the more presence of the Doctor,

who, as I thought, if it were actually necessary, would not

hesitate to give the word.

 

After pulling six hours more, during which we had rounded Cape

Sentakeyi, we stopped at the small fishing village of Mugeyo, where

we were permitted to sleep unmolested. At dawn we continued our

journey, and about 8 A.M. arrived at the village of the friendly

Mutware of Magala. We had pulled for eighteen hours at a stretch,

which, at the rate of two miles and a half per hour, would make

forty-five miles. Taking bearings from our camp at Cape Magala,

one of the most prominent points in travelling north from Ujiji, we

found that the large island of Muzimu, which had been in sight ever

since rounding Cape Bangwe, near Ujiji Bunder, bore about

south-south-west, and that the western shore had considerably

approached to the eastern; the breadth of the lake being at this

point about eight or ten miles. We had a good view of the western

highlands, which seemed to be of an average height, about 3,000

feet above the lake. Luhanga Peak, rising a little to the north of

west from Magala, might be about 500 feet higher; and Sumburizi, a

little north of Luhanga, where lived Mruta, Sultan of Uvira, the

country opposite to this part of Urundi, about 300 feet higher

than the neighbouring heights. Northward from Magala Cape the lake

streamed away between two chains of mountains; both meeting in a

point about thirty miles north of us.

 

The Warundi of Magala were very civil, and profound starers. They

flocked around the tent door, and most pertinaciously gazed on us,

as if we were subjects of most intense interest, but liable to

sudden and eternal departure. The Mutware came to see us late in

the afternoon, dressed with great pomp. He turned out to be a boy

whom I had noticed in the crowd of gazers for his good looks and

fine teeth, which he showed, being addicted to laughing

continually. There was no mistaking him, though he was now

decorated with many ivory ornaments, with necklaces, and with

heavy brass bracelets and iron wire anklets. Our admiration of

him was reciprocated; and, in return for our two doti of cloth and

a fundo of samsam, he gave a fine fat and broad-tailed sheep,

and a pot of milk. In our condition both were extremely acceptable.

 

At Magala we heard of a war raging between Mukamba, for whose

country we were bound, and Warumashanya, a Sultan of an adjoining

district; and we were advised that, unless we intended to assist

one of these chiefs against the other, it would be better for us to

return. But, as we had started to solve the problem of the Rusizi

River, such considerations had no weight with us.

 

On the eighth morning from leaving Ujiji we bade farewell to the

hospitable people of Magala, and set off for Mukamba’s country,

which was in view. Soon after passing the boundary between Urundi

proper, and what is known as Usige, a storm from the southwest

arose; and the fearful yawing of our canoe into the wave trough

warned us from proceeding further; so we turned her head for Kisuka

village, about four miles north, where Mugere, in Usige, begins.

 

At Kisuka a Mgwana living with Mukamba came to see us, and gave us

details of the war between Mukamba and Warumashanya, from which it

seemed that these two chiefs were continually at loggerheads. It

is a tame way of fighting, after all. One chief makes a raid into

the other’s country, and succeeds in making off with a herd of

cattle, killing one or two men who have been surprised. Weeks, or

perhaps months elapse before the other retaliates, and effects a

capture in a similar way, and then a balance is struck in which

neither is the gainer. Seldom do they attack each other with

courage and hearty goodwill, the constitution of the African

being decidedly against any such energetic warfare.

 

This Mgwana, further, upon being questioned, gave us information

far more interesting, viz., about the Rusizi. He told us

positively, with the air of a man who knew all about it, and as

if anybody who doubted him might well be set down as an egregious

ass, that the Rusizi River flowed out of the lake, away to Suna’s

(Mtesa’s) country. “Where else could it flow to?” he asked. The

Doctor was inclined to believe it, or, perhaps he was more inclined

to let it rest as stated until our own eyes should confirm it. I

was more inclined to doubt, as I told the Doctor; first, it was

too good to be true; second, the fellow was too enthusiastic upon

a subject that could not possibly interest him. His “Barikallahs”

and “Inshallahs” were far too fervid; his answers too much in

accordance with our wishes. The Doctor laid great stress on the

report of a Mgwana he met far south, who stated that the grandfather

or father of Rumanika, present King of Karagwah, had thought of

excavating the bed of the Kitangule River, in order that his canoes

might go to Ujiji to open a trade. From this, I imagine, coinciding

as it did with his often-expressed and present firm belief that the

waters of the Tanganika had an outlet somewhere, the Doctor was

partial to the report of the Mgwana; but as we proceed we shall see

how all this will end.

 

On the ninth morning from Ujiji, about two hours after sunrise, we

passed the broad delta of the Mugere, a river which gives its name

also to the district on the eastern shore ruled over by Mukamba.

We had come directly opposite the most southern of its three

mouths, when we found quite a difference in the colour of the water.

An almost straight line, drawn east and west from the mouth would

serve well to mark off the difference that existed between the waters.

On the south side was pure water of a light green, on the north side

it was muddy, and the current could be distinctly seen flowing north.

Soon after passing the first mouth we came to a second, and then a

third mouth, each only a few yards broad, but each discharging

sufficient water to permit our following the line of the currents

several rods north beyond the respective mouths.

 

Beyond the third mouth of the Mugere a bend disclosed itself, with

groups of villages beyond on its bank. These were Mukamba’s, and

in one of them lived Mukamba, the chief. The natives had yet never

seen a white man, and, of course, as soon as we landed we were

surrounded by a large concourse, all armed with long spears—the

only weapon visible amongst them save a club-stick, and here and

there a hatchet.

 

We were shown into a hut, which the Doctor and I shared between

us. What followed on that day I have but a dim recollection,

having been struck down by fever—the first since leaving

Unyanyembe. I dimly recollect trying to make out what age Mukamba

might be, and noting that he was good-looking withal, and

kindly-disposed towards us. And during the intervals of agony and

unconsciousness, I saw, or fancied I saw, Livingstone’s form moving

towards me, and felt, or fancied I felt, Livingstone’s hand

tenderly feeling my hot head and limbs. I had suffered several

fevers between Bagamoyo and Unyanyembe, without anything or anybody

to relieve me of the tedious racking headache and pain, or to

illumine the dark and gloomy prospect which must necessarily

surround the bedside of the sick and solitary traveller. But

though this fever, having enjoyed immunity from it for three

months, was more severe than usual, I did not much regret its

occurrence, since I became the recipient of the very tender and

fatherly kindness of the good man whose companion I