CHAPTER XIV.

The Legend of the Blameless Priest—The heroes of Uganda—Chwa—Kimera, the giant—Nakivingi—Kibaga, the flying warrior—Ma’anda—Wakinguru, the champion—Kamanya, the conqueror of the Wakedi—Suna, the cruel—His massacre of the Wasoga—Namujurilwa, the Achilles of Uganda—Setuba and his lions—Kasindula the hero, peasant, and premier—Mtesa the mild-eyed.

Having arrived safely in Uganda, through most extraordinary and novel scenes, I may be permitted to leave the direct narrative of our travels and our life in Uganda in order to inform the reader on certain points of the history of Mtesa’s country, beginning with Kintu, Priest, Patriarch, and first King of Uganda.

Whatever of the incredible or marvellous may be discovered by the learned critic in this chapter must not be debited against the author, but against Sabadu and the elders who are responsible for the tale of Kintu, the wars of Kamanya, Suna, and Mtesa, and the feats of Namujurilwa, Setuba, and Kasindula the heroes, while Mtesa himself furnished me with the names of the kings his forefathers, with many other facts contained in this chapter.

For my part I regret only that want of space compels me to compress what I have gathered of the history of this interesting country into a few pages, but brief as it is, I venture to believe that it will not be without interest to a large class of readers.

Uganda, then, was first peopled by immigrants from the north, about the thirteenth or fourteenth century. But the date at which I thus fix the arrival of the patriarch Kintu may be wrong; he may have arrived at a much earlier period, and the names of a large number of his successors may have sunk into oblivion.

Tradition, as well as it has been able, has faithfully preserved the memory of the acts of the first of these immigrants, though it has contemptuously omitted the acts of his successors, and, as usual, has contrived to endow its favourites, here as elsewhere, with marvellous power and extraordinary attributes.

Kintu, the first immigrant and the founder of Uganda, came from the north, and perhaps derived his descent from some African Arab or ancient Ethiopic family. He was a mild, humane, and blameless man, and from his character was probably a priest of some old and long forgotten order. He brought with him one wife, one cow, one goat, one sheep, one banana-root, and a sweet potato; and, journeying in search of a suitable land to dwell in, established himself finally on the western bank of the Mwerango river, at Magonga,[22] near the present frontier of Unyoro. He found the country uninhabited, for not a single soul then dwelt in all the land lying between the lakes Victoria and Albert and Muta Nzigé. Usoga was a wilderness, Ukedi a desolate plain, and the fertile valleys of Unyoro were unpeopled.

The priest Kintu was alone in his kingdom. But these countries were not destined to remain desolate long, for his wife was remarkably prolific. She brought forth four children at a birth each year, and each male issued into the world with an incipient beard and the powers of lusty prime youth; and the female children at two years of age bore children, who at an equally early age conceived and bore sons and daughters, until the land began to be fully peopled, the forests to be cut down, the land to be cultivated, and planted with bananas and corn.

The single cow, goat, sheep, and chicken increased after their kind by some extraordinary manner, until they grew so numerous that each of the offspring of Kintu soon possessed large herds of cattle, and flocks of sheep and goats, and numerous chickens. The banana-root also, once planted in the soil of Uganda by the holy hands of Kintu, sprang up almost instantly into a stalk of vast girth, from the top of which hung pendent such a cluster of fruit as is not seen in Uganda nowadays, and the root spread itself over a large area, from which hundreds of bananas shot upward with great stalks and all the leafy luxuriance of a large plantation. The potato-plant also vied with the banana, for so great was its vitality that it appeared to crawl over the ground so fast was its growth.

When his offspring had grown so numerous that they crowded Magonga, Kintu cut portions of the original banana-root and potato-plant and gave to each family a portion, and having taught them how “to sow the glebe and plant the generous vine,” bade them seek each a home, and establish themselves in the land round about him. Those who received the banana established their home south of Magonga, while those who received the sweet potato-plant migrated to the north of Magonga, and dwelt in the valleys of Unyoro. Hence it is that to this day the people of Uganda, south, and all about Magonga, prefer the banana for food, while the people of Wanyoro have such a predilection for sweet potatoes.

Being a priest, Kintu entertained a special aversion to the shedding of blood, whether of man, animal, bird, or insect, but he did not instruct his offspring to abstain from shedding the blood of beasts. If any animal was to be slain for food, it was ordained that it should be taken far from the neighbourhood of his house, and if a man was to be executed for murder, the executioner dare not slay his victim near Kintu or his house or his garden, neither might the man of blood at any time approach the patriarch’s person. If the culprit on his way to execution could contrive to make his way to Kintu’s presence and touch his feet or his garments, or were the patriarch even to cast his eyes on him, his life was safe.

When the good patriarch became old, his children forgot to follow his pious example, for from the banana they had discovered the art of making wine and strong drinks, with which they debauched themselves, and, being daily intoxicated, committed indecencies, became violent in language, reckless and hardened in impiety, and, worse than all, so rebellious as to threaten to depose and kill him. Kintu bore this conduct in his unloving children with meekness and sorrow for a long time, but warned them that their impiety and violence would be punished some day; but they heeded him not, for the wine had maddened them.

After a time, finding his admonitions of no avail, he said to his wife, “See my sons whom I brought into this world have become wicked and hard of heart, and they threaten to drive their father away or kill him, for they say I am become old and useless. I am like a hateful stranger amongst my own children. They shed the blood of their brothers daily, and there is nothing but killing and bloodshed now, until I am sick of blood. It is time for us to get away and depart elsewhere. Come, let us go.” And in the night Kintu and his wife departed, taking with them their original cow, goat, sheep, chicken, a banana-root, and a sweet potato-plant.

In the morning it became known that their father Kintu was not in his house, nor to be found anywhere, that he had left the country with all the things which he had brought thither when he first arrived. Then all were filled with sorrow, and great lamentation was made throughout the land.

After three days, during which search was instituted far and wide for the lost patriarch, Chwa, the eldest son, took his spear and shield in his hand and said, “I am the first-born, and it is my right to sit in the place of my father. Now you, my brothers, be good and beware of my spear”; and Chwa being strong, his brothers feared him, and paid homage to him as their king.

Chwa did not abandon the search for his father, though he had attained the regal power. He seems to have cherished a hope that in some distant country his father would be discovered, whither he might be able to proceed to him and ask his forgiveness.

A rumour sometimes reached Chwa that his father had been seen, but none of his several messengers succeeded in seeing him, and he at last died without the hope being gratified.

Chwa was succeeded by his son Kamiera, a name to this day retained by the members of the imperial family. Like his father Chwa, Kamiera searched for the patriarch Kintu until his own death, without success.

Kamiera was succeeded by his gigantic son Kimera, who distinguished himself as a hunter. He first introduced dogs for the chase, and was so fond of them that he always led one by the cord wherever he went. It was from this king that his successors inherited their partiality for the canine race, and in the memory of many yet living Suna is remembered for his extraordinary attachment to dogs, for the special subsistence of which he surrendered whole districts. Mtesa was also seen by Speke showing great fondness for a dog, but the present monarch has long ago abandoned this traditional predilection, and he now prohibits their presence in his court.

Kimera was of such size, strength, and weight that his feet made marks in rocks, and the impress of one of his feet is shown to this day by the antiquarians of Uganda in a rock situated not far from the capital, Ulagalla. It is said that this mark was made by one of his feet slipping while he was in the act of launching his spear at an elephant. Kimera also explored countries remote and near, searching all the forests, the wilderness, the plains, the fastnesses of the mountains, the summits of hills and the caves, and travelled along all the river-banks in vain quest for the lost Kintu.

The fact seemed to be impressed on the minds of all that Kintu was only lost, not dead, that he was immortal, and Kimera, even more than his predecessors, was indefatigable in his efforts to verify this belief. He led in person large expeditions, and offered great rewards to peasants, promising to make him who discovered Kintu next to the king in power—the Katekiro of Uganda. But he likewise failed in the search, and finally died.

Almass (which name, if Arabic, rendered into English, means “Diamond”) succeeded Kimera the hunter. This king’s name is a favourite one among the Arabs, which I take to be further evidence that the founder of the Uganda monarchy had Asiatic blood in his veins. Of Almass, tradition says nothing save that, like his father, he hoped to find Kintu. On his death he was succeeded by his son Tembo.

After Tembo came Kigara, Wanpamba, Kaeema, and Nakivingi, the last being remembered for his heroic valour and many conquests.

Nakivingi fought and subjected the Wanyoro, who, from their predilection for sweet potatoes, may have deemed themselves long ago a separate people from the Waganda, a theory by no means supported by the authority of venerable tradition.

After Nakivingi we have a long list of kings, about whom tradition, fable, and history are all alike silent. Morondo succeeded Nakivingi—the Charlemagne of Uganda—and after him followed Sekamanya, Jemba, Suna I., Kimbugwé, Katerega, Ntewi, and Juko. This last, it is said, had a headstrong, violent, and disobedient son, named Kyemba, whom he was obliged to pacify with the island of Uvuma, whence afterwards he appeared in Uganda, deposed his father Juko, and, slaying him, reigned in his stead.

One of the heroes of Nakivingi was a warrior named Kibaga, who possessed the power of flying. When the king warred with the Wanyoro, he sent Kibaga into the air to ascertain the whereabouts of the foe, who, when discovered by this extraordinary being, were attacked on land in their hiding-places by Nakivingi, and from above by the active and faithful Kibaga, who showered great rocks on them, and by these means slew a vast number.

It happened that among the captives of Unyoro Kibaga saw a beautiful woman, who was solicited by the king in marriage. As Nakivingi was greatly indebted to Kibaga for his unique services, he gave her to Kibaga as wife, with a warning, however, not to impart the knowledge of his power to her, lest she should betray him. For a long time after marriage his wife knew nothing of his power, but suspecting something strange in him from his repeated sudden absences and reappearances at his home, she set herself to watch him, and one morning as he left his hut she was surprised to see him suddenly mount into the air with a burden of rocks slung on his back. On seeing this she remembered the Wanyoro complaining that more of their people were killed by some means from above than by the spears of Nakivingi, and Delilah-like, loving her race and her people more than she loved her husband, she hastened to her people’s camp, and communicated, to the surprise of the Wanyoro, what she had that day learned.

To avenge themselves on Kibaga, the Wanyoro set archers in ambush on the summits of each lofty hill, with instructions to confine themselves to watching the air and listening for the brushing of his wings, and to shoot their arrows in the direction of the sound, whether anything was seen or not. By this means on a certain day, as Nakivingi marched to the battle, Kibaga was wounded to the death by an arrow, and upon the road large drops of blood were seen falling, and on coming to a tall tree the king detected a dead body entangled in its branches. When the tree was cut down, Nakivingi saw to his infinite sorrow that it was the body of his faithful flying warrior Kibaga.

Succeeding Kyemba came Tibandéké, Mdowra, Kaguru, Kikuruwé, and Ma’anda. It was the fortune of this last king to discover news of the lost Kintu, after a most remarkable and romantic manner.

Though history and fable are silent respecting the acts of many of Ma’anda’s predecessors, we may well believe that each king made efforts to discover the missing Kintu, as the belief that he was still alive obtained as firm credence in the reign of Ma’anda as in the days of Chwa and Kimera. With Ma’anda this belief was very strong, and spurred by the hope that some day it would be his happy fortune to be successful, he was ardent in the chase, penetrating great forests, and traversing extensive plains and valleys, ostensibly to hunt game, but really to hunt up news of Kintu.

It happened one day, after returning to his capital from one of these expeditions, that a peasant living not far off was compelled from lack of fuel for his family to enter a forest to cut wood. Having over-exerted himself, and being very much fatigued, and his home being far, he resolved to sleep in the forest, near his wood pile. For the sake of security and uninterrupted sleep he constructed a rude hut, and fenced it round with the branches of the prostrate trees, and when it was completed he laid himself down and slept.

And a sound sleep it was, we may imagine, induced by hard labour and fatigue, though not a dreamless one. For in his sleep, it is said, he dreamed a strange dream, wherein he thought he heard a voice, which said, “Go to a place in this forest, where the trees are very thick, round an open space near a stream running by, and you will there see something which will give you great wealth, and make you a great chief.” Three times the dream was repeated. These words caused the heart of the sleeping peasant to bound for joy; so much so that it woke him, and then he began to regret that the good which was promised him was but a dream and a mockery. But reflecting that he knew the place described, for he had often been there, and that it was not very far off, he thought he might as well obey the voice in the dream, if only for the sake of satisfying his curiosity. He had dreamed the same dream thrice, and each time the voice had been emphatic and precise, and he thought that there might be something of truth conveyed in it.

After a few hours’ hurried travel, he approached the place described, and his movements towards the spot became now very cautious, lest some event might occur quite the reverse of his hopes, as dreams sometimes go by contraries. He heard the murmur and gurgle of the stream, and the soughing of the branches of the forest overhead in such a solitary place filled his heart with awe. He began to feel frightened, though he knew not at what, and was more than half inclined to turn back. Yet this eerie feeling and alarm might be causeless; he therefore advanced into the open space, and suddenly he saw there a sight that almost petrified him.

Ranged in two rows, on either side of a venerable man, who reclined on a kind of throne, were many warriors seated on mats. They held spears and shields in their hands, and the complexion of these men was so light as to resemble that of white men. The central figure on the throne was that of an old man, whose long beard was white with age, and his complexion was similar to the warriors seated on the mats. All were clothed in spotless white robes.

For a time no man spoke, though all eyes were turned on the astonished and awed peasant, and regarded him with a stern and awful gaze. Finally, the silence was broken by the voice of the old man, which sounded to the peasant like that which he had heard in the dream, and it said, “Peasant, tell me what country this is.”

The peasant answered, trembling, and perspiring through excessive fear, “Eh, don’t you know? This is Uganda.”

“And who was the first king?” demanded the old man. “Come tell me his name?”

“Kintu,” answered the peasant.

“True,” said the old man. “Now tell me the name of the present king.”

“Ma’anda,” replied the peasant.

“Well then, depart instantly, and haste to Ma’anda the king, and bid him come to Kintu, who shall be here to meet him, for Ma’anda has long searched for Kintu, and Kintu has somewhat to tell Ma’anda. Bid him come hither accompanied only by his mother and thyself, and mark me, not even his dog must follow him. Haste and tell King Ma’anda all thou hast seen and heard, and if thou art faithful, thy reward shall be great.”

The peasant needed to hear no more, but turned and fled away with the speed of an antelope, and early at dawn next day arrived at the capital, and proceeded direct to the Katekiro, to whom he said, “I have news to tell King Ma’anda, and no man else must hear it. Take me to the king without delay.”

The man’s manner, though he was mean in appearance, was peremptory, and the Katekiro dared not refuse his request, but rose and conducted him to the king.

It happened, strangely enough, that at the same moment Ma’anda was relating to his mother, whom he had sent for, the story of a strange dream he had dreamed during the night. He had scarcely finished its relation when the Katekiro was announced, who said to him, “King, here is a strange man, a peasant, I believe, who states that he has important news to tell thee, and thee alone,” which when the king heard, and had seen the peasant, he said to his mother, “Lo! now, this is the very man I saw in my dream, who told me such wonderful news.”

Then turning eagerly to the peasant, he said to him, “Speak, man, what is it thou hast to say to me?”

“O, king,” he replied, “I may not speak except to thee and thy mother, for so have I been commanded.”

Then Ma’anda impatiently commanded the Katekiro to retire and, that they might not be disturbed, to set a guard at the outer gate, so that on no account either man, woman, or child might enter the inner court.

When they were quite alone, the peasant began to unfold to Ma’anda his story from the beginning to the end, just as it is told here, concluding with the old man’s words: “Bid the king come with his mother and thyself, and, mark me, not even his dog must follow him.”

On hearing this news, Ma’anda said, “Come, let us go, only us three, for so the old man said,” and taking his spear and shield, the king strode out of the inner court through a private gate followed by his mother and the peasant without communicating to a soul else whither he was going.

Despite this secrecy, however, it soon became publicly known that King Ma’anda and his mother had left the palace, accompanied by a peasant, and that they had taken the direction of the forest, towards which they had been seen travelling with rapid steps by one who communicated the information to the Katekiro.

This news plunged the principal chief of the kingdom into a state of perplexity. He was for a moment at a loss what to do, for had his master desired any other company he would undoubtedly have made it known; but, on the other hand, this conduct was inexplicable, and the king might have been lured by some cunning plausible tale to proceed in this manner, whereby he might be destroyed without detection.

As the thought of treachery to the king flashed through his mind, he instantly resolved to follow him and watch after his safety, and should the peasant mean harm to him, he would be at hand, though unsuspected, to assist his master. He therefore seized his spear and shield, and sped away after the king in stealthy pursuit. Soon he discovered the king, the king’s mother, and the peasant, and, slackening his steps, sought only to keep them in view, and to elude the quick, searching glances which he saw the king frequently dart behind him. They travelled in this manner all that day and half of the next day, when the peasant informed the king that they were approaching the appointed place.

The king, to assure himself that they had not been followed by any one, looked keenly around once more, and having satisfied himself that they were alone, he commanded the peasant to move on and point out the meeting-place. Gliding under the shadows of the dense grove surrounding the open space, they soon emerged from them, and were in front of the extraordinary assembly, who appeared to have preserved the same posture and attitude since the departure of the peasant on his errand to the king.

As the three advanced near the extremity of the rows of seated warriors, the old man on the throne asked the king, who was in advance, and gazing on the scene with the greatest astonishment, “Who art thou?”

“I am Ma’anda,” he replied.

“Art thou the king?”

“I am.”

“And who is that woman with thee?” the old man demanded.

“My mother,” the king answered.

“It is well,” said he; “but how is it you did not observe what I commanded? Why came ye not alone?”

“We have done exactly as we were told,” said the king. “There are only my mother and this peasant with me, for no one knew of my departure.”

“But I have seen another man behind thee,” persisted the old man. “Tell me who he is?”

“Rest assured,” said Ma’anda, “there is no man save this peasant with me, for yesterday and to-day I looked several times behind me to make sure that I was not followed.”

“Who was the first king of Uganda?” suddenly asked the old man.

“Kintu,” answered Ma’anda.

“Thou sayest truly,” said the old man slowly and deliberately; “and Kintu was good. He injured no man, beast, bird, or insect, and no living thing had cause to complain of him. He never even struck a man with a stick, or caused him pain in any manner, for he loved his children like a kind father should; but his sons grew exceedingly wicked, headstrong, disobedient, and utterly unmanageable. They loved to shed blood. They first slaughtered beasts, and became so accustomed to blood that at last they slew their brothers and sisters. They became so madly in love with blood that they wished to shed that of their good father Kintu. Then Kintu saw that Uganda was no more a land for him, that it was unfit for him to live in, and, oh! when he looked on the face of the land at first, it was so fair and pure that it delighted his eyes, but when it became red and filthy with the blood of innocent men and women and children, it became hateful to Kintu, and he departed from the horrid, cruel land. From Chwa down to Ma’anda each king has sought to find Kintu, though in vain. Thou, Ma’anda, shalt see Kintu face to face, and thou shalt hear him speak; but first I have somewhat to tell thee from him. Listen, and mark well his words—but tell me who was that man that followed thee hither?” he suddenly asked.

Ma’anda, well pleased that he of all his predecessors was selected to see and converse with Kintu, had become all attention, and every fibre and nerve quivered to hear the prelude to the introduction; but when interrogated by the old man again upon a subject already satisfactorily answered, he asked impatiently, “Why dost thou ask again when I have already told thee that no man followed me here, because no man could have known whither I went?”

“But I,” said the old man calmly, “saw a man follow thee step by step. Why didst thou let him come, when I expressly told thee thou must come only with thy mother and this peasant?”

The king’s mother and the peasant declared that Ma’anda had spoken truly, and that no man followed them.

“I saw him behind that tree listening. Behold! there he stands,” said the old man, suddenly pointing to the Katekiro, who, perceiving that he was discovered, now came forward.

The three turned their eyes on hearing the words of the old man, and at the sight of the Katekiro, Ma’anda grew desperately enraged, and with passionate fury he seized his spear, launched it, and pierced his faithful servant through the heart, who with a short, sharp shriek, fell dead at his feet.

But, lo! when King Ma’anda and his companions turned to discover what effect this scene had upon the old man and the seated warriors, they found that they had vanished, and that not even the slightest trace of them was left; at which the three stared at one another in the wildest astonishment. Then the king, recovering from his surprise, fell upon the ground and wept aloud, calling upon the name of Kintu; and the king’s mother and the peasant added their cries to his, and wept as if their hearts would break. But no blood-hating Kintu answered to them, only the tall deep woods echoed their cries, “Kintu, Kintu-u, Kintu-u-u-u,” as if in mockery of their sorrow.

All night they kept watch, breaking out now and then into moaning and wailings for the last loss of the great father of Uganda. But Kintu, after this scene, never more appeared in Uganda, and to this day he has not been seen or heard of by any man.

After Ma’anda’s death succeeded Msangi, Namugara, and Chabagu. In the time of this latter king flourished Wakinguru, a hero, whose name history, cherished within the memories of admiring men, has preserved for his unparalleled deeds. When Chabagu invaded Usoga, it appears that the Wasoga were very numerous, and, having as yet never been reduced to submission by the Waganda, very bold and fearless. The people of Usoga mocked the victorious Waganda until Chabagu was roused to declare war upon them; and to show them the prowess of the people whom they had so insolently defied Chabagu permitted Wakinguru to cross over to Jinja alone, that he might exhibit the warlike qualities of his nation in his own person.

Wakinguru, we are led to believe, was a man of herculean frame, and we may well suppose him gifted with more than common courage. He marched to the height of Jinja with a large bundle of spears on his back, and his shield was so ample and thick that it required two ordinary men to lift it.

Arriving at a place where he could command a clear view of the Wasoga camp, he shouted out a bold challenge to any man, or to all at once, to approach him, that he might show them what manner of men were those who had been so frequently insulted by them. Several of the Wasoga, responding to the challenge, rushed up to try his mettle, but Wakinguru’s spears were so formidable, and his strength so great, that long before any of the foe came within distance permitting an ordinary man to launch his spear, they were all dead men. The hero then plucked his spears from the corpses, and prepared to meet the next party, who came up in hot haste to avenge the deaths of their friends. Again the redoubtable man launched his fatal spears, and again the Wasoga had to lament the deaths of their champions.

Enraged by this, the Wasoga at length advanced in a body, and formed a large circle round him; but Wakinguru only laughed at this manœuvre, and continued remorselessly slaying, launching his whirring lengthy shafts with the most deadly effect; and then, picking up the spears of his enemies, with which the ground near him was plentifully strewn, he returned their own weapons to them, launching them with the swiftness and certainty of arrows. His strength sustained him in this unequal contest from sunrise to sunset, when it was discovered that Wakinguru had slain 600 men with his own hand! At night he crossed Jinja (or the Falls) to Ugungu unharmed, where he refreshed himself with the bananas and milk and water of Uganda, and where he received the warmest congratulations from King Chabagu and his army.

Next morning Wakinguru renewed the battle, and it continued throughout the whole of the second day, during which time the hero slew a similar number; and on the third day also he fought with the same success, until at last the Wasoga confessed that they were unable to meet him.

Then King Chabagu crossed the water above Jinja (Napoleon Channel), and completed the conquest of Usoga.

After Chabagu succeeded Junju, Waseje, and Kamanya. This last king, grandfather of the present monarch, is remembered for his victories over the Wakedi, a most ferocious and warlike people occupying country north of Usoga. The Wakedi, it is said, wore armour, and employed in their wars an immense number of great dogs, as large as young lions. Besides, the country of the Wakedi was surrounded by broad rivers or small lakes,[23] and these several advantages had made the Wakedi rather feared by the Waganda. But vexed by the repeated forays made by them into the very heart of his country, and the impunity with which they carried them, Kamanya determined to prosecute a war against them until one side or the other should be declared beyond doubt the stronger. For this purpose he assembled his chiefs, and, having stated the advantages of situation which Ukedi enjoyed against attack, commanded them to advise him as to the means and ways of conducting the campaign.

Stimulated by large rewards, the chiefs proposed various tactics for retaliating upon the enemy; but it was the plan of the grandfather of Sabadu the historian that was deemed the best. This person advised Kamanya to command 100 canoes to proceed by water to Jinja, where they might be taken to pieces and conveyed overland through Usoga to the Nagombwa river,[24] whence, after reconstruction, they could proceed to attack the Wakedi in the rear, while the king himself could proceed with his army to Urondogani, along the western bank of the Victoria Nile, and menace Ukedi from that side. This wise counsel was loudly applauded and at once adopted, the charge of the canoes being given to Sabadu’s grandfather himself.

The Wakedi, as might be imagined, attacked in such an unlooked-for direction, were greatly surprised and discouraged. They fled for refuge to their fenced villages, leaving their cattle in the hands of the Waganda, who drove them across the Nagombwa to Usoga. The vengeance of the Waganda not being yet complete, they proceeded to attack the Wakedi in their fenced villages, using red-hot arrows wrapped in bark cloth, by which the straw huts were set on fire, and the inhabitants driven out to meet the spears of the Waganda.

Perceiving that the presence of Kamanya on the opposite bank of the Nile was only a ruse, the Wakedi concentrated their forces to drive the Waganda who had come by way of the Nagombwa out of the country. When the two nations met, a desperate battle ensued, rather to the disadvantage of the Waganda, for the enemy wore iron armour, which their spears could not penetrate.

After consultation, it was decided by the Waganda that at the next battle they would not waste their time in launching their spears, but would rush on the foe with naked hands and capture and bind them.

Having received large reinforcements, the Waganda resumed the battle, but instead of throwing their spears they simply defended their bodies with their shields, and rushing on their encumbered adversaries, seized and bound them with cords. Perceiving that affairs were becoming desperate for them, the Wakedi mustered all their war-hounds, which, while the Waganda were engaged with their masters, rushed upon them from all sides, with their large mouths wide open, barking tremendously, and bit and tore them in such a manner that the Waganda became stricken with panic, and fled to their canoes. The hounds, with their fury unappeased, rushed after the canoes into the water, where an immense number of them were easily slaughtered by the Waganda, whose senses, it appears, were by this time collected. Fearing that they would lose all their faithful war-hounds, the Wakedi recalled their dogs, paid tribute, and acknowledged the superiority and supremacy of the Waganda, and to this day the Wakedi have been true to their allegiance.

As we arrive nearer our own times, the history of Uganda becomes, of course, more precise and trustworthy. Thus, when we come to Suna II., the son of Kamanya, and predecessor and father of Mtesa, we are told that he was about sixteen years of age when he succeeded to his father, and about forty when he died, and that he reigned, therefore, twenty-four years. As Mtesa ascended the throne in his nineteenth year, and as he has already reigned fifteen years (up to 1875), Suna must have been born in 1820, begun to reign in 1836, and died in 1860.

Suna, so his intimate friends still alive told me, was short of stature and of very compact build, most despotic and cruel, but brave and warlike.

He had a peculiar habit, it is said, of sitting with his head bent low, seldom looking up. His attitude seemed to be that of one intently tracing designs on the ground, though in reality he was keenly alive to all that was transpiring around him. He frequently beheaded his people by hundreds. It is reported that one day he executed 800 people of Uganda for a single crime committed. Other punishments which he inflicted were dreadful, such as gouging out eyes, and slitting ears, noses, and lips. It is said that he so seldom lifted his eyes from the ground that whenever he did look up at a person, the executioners, called “Lords of the Cord,” understood it as a sign of condemnation.

Any messenger arriving with news was compelled to crawl on his knees, and in this position to whisper it into the king’s ears. Whenever he passed along a path, the announcement, “Suna is coming,” sufficed to send the people flying in a panic from the neighbourhood.

To strangers from other countries he was most liberal and hospitable, and many Arab traders have had cause to bless the good fortune that conducted them to Uganda in the days of Suna.

This Emperor, or _Kabaka_, as the rulers of Uganda, after their vast conquest, were styled, was also exceedingly fond of dogs. For the sustenance of one of his pets he caused an entire district to be cultivated and planted with the sweet potato, which was its favourite diet; and when it died, he caused each chief to contribute bark-cloths for its burial.

He also kept a lion and a leopard, and another animal which, from its description, I take to have been either a species of wolf or lynx; the two former became quite tame, but the latter was so incorrigibly fierce that he finally ordered it to be destroyed.

From such a disposition as that of Suna, it was natural that he should engage in frequent wars, and from his determined and resolute character we cannot be surprised to hear that they were most bloody and terrible. He conquered Ankori, overran Unyoro and Usoga, and was the first to conquer the united nations of Uzongora. The lion-hearted Wavuma owned him as their liege lord; even distant Ruanda heard of his name, tried him in battle, and became convinced of his greatness. The details of the two last wars in which Suna was engaged I have collected, and present them here, as told by Sabadu, from which the reader may perceive for himself the character of this monarch and the general nature of wars in Central Africa.

Suna heard that Usoga had rebelled and refused to pay tribute to him, whereupon, after rendering homage and dues to the Muzimu, or spirits,[25] he levied a vast army and marched to Jinja, or the rocks overlooking the Ripon Falls, where he rested four days. The Wasoga, upon Suna’s advance, fled to Kitenteh Island (situate in the channel between Uvuma and Usoga, about seven miles from Nakaranga Cape). On this island the Wasoga placed their women and children, and large herds of cattle, and it was evident from the measures they adopted that they intended to make a desperate and prolonged resistance.

After marching through Usoga, he camped on the mainland, about half a mile from Kitenteh Island. The Wavuma, responding to his command to muster their canoes for the war, supplied him with over 100, manned by natives of Uziri, Wema, and Kibibi; Lulamba, Irwaji, and Sessé Islands supplied him with 200; while from the Uganda coast he obtained 200 more; so that, in all, Suna had 500 canoes for the war.

Usoga, an extensive country of itself, did its best to meet the monarch of Uganda with a large and powerful fleet, and, assisted by its islands, Namungi and Neygano; as also by Usuguru, Chaga, Muiwanda, and Ugana, was able to match Suna’s fleet, canoe for canoe.

But the spirit which animated the warriors of the two nations differed greatly. On the one side was the determination to win freedom; on the other a monarch resolved to retain in subjection, but lacking people to meet the Wasoga on the water, and only able to compel his warriors to fight at all on that element by the most horrible threats and the inspiration of terror.

Having assembled his fleet, Suna ordered the assault; but the Wasoga met the Waganda in the channel, and after a desperate battle drove the Waganda in precipitate retreat to the mainland. For the period of a month repeated efforts were made to effect a landing on the island, but the Wasoga, with great spirit and bravery, repelled the Waganda with severe loss. The Wasoga also, adding insult to injury, were accustomed to approach the mainland and taunt the king with bitter words, telling him to seek the graves of Kaguru and Kamanya, and bury himself there for very shame.[26] At length, enraged by these taunts, Suna called his chiefs to him, and in assembly assailed them with bitter reproaches, and asking them if he was not the Emperor, and if Emperor, why the Wasoga were permitted to taunt him, and stung to frenzy by the memory of the insults lately received, commanded his chiefs to man their canoes on the morrow and assault the island, threatening them, if they failed, with roasting, decapitation, and utter destruction.

The chiefs prostrated themselves one after another, and swore to set their feet on Kitenteh Island the next day. The morrow came, and each chief was in his canoe with his most chosen warriors. The battle ensued, but only four chiefs were true to their promise—the Katekiro, Namujurilwa (Majwara’s father[27]), and two others of equal bravery and eminence. The Katekiro on landing killed two with his spear at one thrust, so great was the throng of Wasoga who rushed against him. Namujurilwa’s spear was plunged through three at a time, but unable to draw his weapon out, he was attacked by a Msoga, who with his javelin pinned both his arms, and he was only saved by a rush of his own men, who bore him away to his canoe. The two other chiefs slew two men each, and were obliged to retire, being unsupported by their people. Many other chiefs distinguished themselves, and many died fighting in the attempt to land on the island.

The Wasoga had formed themselves into four ranks on this day. The first comprised the slingers, and the second the spearmen, the third, on higher ground, slingers again, and the fourth a reserve of spearmen, for the final and supreme struggle.

For three successive days the chiefs of Uganda led in person the Waganda to the assault, until finally the queen’s father requested Suna not to sacrifice all his chiefs while the peasants were standing idle spectators. Suna yielded to his request, and perceiving that bravery was of no avail against the desperate Wasoga, he adopted the plan of surrounding the island day and night with his canoes, and starving the rebels into submission. What food the unfortunate Wasoga were able to obtain was inadequate for their wants, and cost them much trouble and many lives, both on shore, in distant parts of the coast, and in the channel, for Suna had constructed large camps along the coast of Usoga, and his canoes kept strict watch and ward over Kitenteh Island.

For two months the Wasoga endured this state of things, but at the end of that period, being reduced to the verge of absolute starvation, four of their chiefs approached the camp of Suna with offers of submission. Suna refused to see them, but gave them thirty head of cattle to convey to the island, with a request to the chiefs to eat, and think well first of what they offered, promising that, if on the fourth day they were still of the same mind, he would be willing to talk with them.

At the end of the fourth day twenty chiefs came over from Kitenteh Island, stating that they were willing to submit to Suna, to pay tribute, and to render service. He received them graciously, and ordered them to commence the next day, with the assistance of his own canoes, the transportation of the Wasoga to his camp, in order that they might all render their submission to him.

For three days, it is said, the Waganda and Wasoga canoes were engaged in this service, and as fast as the Wasoga arrived they were conducted to a large stockade erected expressly for them during the night of the surrender. On the fourth day, his late enemies being all in his camp, surrounded by his own people, he called their chiefs and told them he would be gratified if they and their warriors would perform their war-dance before him next day. Unsuspecting evil, they willingly promised.

Suna after their departure to the stockade instructed the Waganda chiefs to bring all their people, early next morning, each man supplied with a cord, and to form them in two ranks four deep, and when he gave the signal, to fall upon the Wasoga and bind them. On the morning of the fifth day the Waganda were all drawn up as instructed, and the Wasoga, seeing nothing in this but Suna’s desire of showing his power and pomp, and without the least idea what this war-dance portended to them, marched within the fatal lines, armed only with sticks, as had been agreed—upon the cunning plea that the Waganda might take offence at seeing them play with edged weapons before Suna. They were the more completely thrown off their guard by the kindness shown to them by the Emperor and by the liberal supplies of cattle and bananas supplied to them since their surrender.

We can imagine how the unhappy Wasoga advanced smiling into Suna’s presence on this great day, and how, wishing to please the fearful despot, they danced to the best of their power. But on a sudden, while they were exerting their voices (30,000 is the number given) into a grand swelling chorus at the triumphal finale of the fictitious war which they had been representing, Suna gave the signal, and 100,000 Waganda warriors fell upon them, and despite their fearful, desperate struggles—when all too late the treachery of Suna became apparent—bound them hand and foot.

Out of this immense number of prisoners, sixty of the principal chiefs were selected and placed before Suna, who said to them:—“For three months you have kept me and my people waiting for your submission; you rebelled against my authority, and attempted to throw off your allegiance; you have slain more than half of my principal chiefs, and you have vexed me with taunts, telling me to go and seek the graves of Kaguru and Kamanya, and to hide myself there for shame. You have mocked me—me! who am called Suna—Suna, the Emperor (_Kabaka_). I go to my grave by-and-by, but by the grave of my father Kamanya you shall die to-day, and you may tell your fathers that Suna the Emperor sent you to them.”

Then turning to the Waganda, he fiercely shouted, “Cut them to little pieces, and pile their remains on the plain without the camp.” As Suna commanded, so was it done, and the Waganda were employed on this monstrous work for five days, for they obeyed his command literally, and, beginning at the legs and arms, hacked their victims to pieces without taking the trouble to despatch them first.

Usoga, upon hearing of this terrible deed, sent all its principal men and chiefs to implore pardon and proffer submission and allegiance, which Suna was pleased to accept. This event closed the war, and Suna returned to his palace in Uganda with a train of 5000 female captives and 8000 children.

Soon after his return to Uganda the Wasoga rebelled a second time under the leadership of Rura, chief of Nakaranga, upon hearing which Suna smiled grimly and said, “Rura has taken much time to make up his mind; since he has waited so long let him wait a little longer, and I will show him who his master is.”

Meantime Namujurilwa, chief of Uddu, after returning to visit his home, heard that his neighbour the king of Ankori or Usagara was preparing to invade his country with a mighty force. Ever prompt for mischief and war, Namujurilwa did not wait to meet the Wasagara on his own soil, but beat his war-drum, and, mustering his followers, marched through Bwera and penetrated into the very heart of Ankori, and there surprised his enemies, assembled under five princes, in their own camp.

Namujurilwa fell upon them with a ferocity and vigour that the numerical superiority of his enemies could not equal. For five hours the battle lasted without intermission or advantage to either side, when Namujurilwa was accidentally met by one of the princes of Ankori.

“Not dead yet, Namujurilwa?” cried the prince. “Wait a little for me,” saying which he took a bow from one of his servants and shot an arrow which hit the border of the tough double bull-hide shield which the chief of Uddu generally carried.

Namujurilwa did not wait for a second arrow, but bounded forward, crying out, “No, not dead yet, prince” (_Mlangira_), “and shall not die until I have killed you,” and forthwith launched his dirk-pointed spear, which pinned both the shield and body of the unfortunate youth.

Another prince coming up and observing his brother fall, shot an arrow, and pierced the leopard-skin of the Uddu chief, who returned the compliment with one of his long spears, which penetrated his body and protruded far through his back. The death of these two princes decided the battle, for the Wasagara became panic-stricken and fled, leaving a vast spoil of cattle and effects in the conqueror’s hands.

Upon returning to Uddu from the war, the victorious chief sent 300 women, 600 children of both sexes, and 1000 head of cattle to the Emperor Suna, as his share of the spoil, who on viewing the magnificent gift said to his chiefs in assembly, “Truly, Namujurilwa is brave, there is none like him in Uganda.”

Setuba, a great chief, holding under Suna an extensive tract of country[28] bordering upon Unyoro, whispered to his neighbour, “H’m, you hear how Suna praises Namujurilwa; let us go to Unyoro and show Suna that he has other chiefs as brave as Namujurilwa.”

Requesting and obtaining leave of the Emperor to visit his own country, Setuba soon left the capital, and after arriving at his chief village, beat his war-drum and summoned his people to war.

Taking with him 300 head of cattle, he crossed the frontier of Unyora, where he slew his cattle and made his followers eat beef to make themselves strong. Having devoured the meat, his people informed Setuba that they were now as strong as lions and all prepared for war.

Setuba smiled and said to them, “I have given you 300 head of my own cattle; go and bring me 3000 head and I shall consider that you have paid me for what you have eaten.”

The warriors responded to Setuba’s words with a shout, and at once set out to collect spoil from the Wanyoro, while Setuba and a chosen band remained in camp. The Waganda, however, were promptly met by the Wanyoro in considerable numbers, and after a few hours were defeated and pursued as far as Setuba’s camp.

The chief received the fugitives sternly and said, “Where are those lions whom I lately fed with my cattle? Are you about to return to Uganda with empty hands? Yes, go on, and as you fly proclaim that Setuba, your chief, is dead.” Saying which Setuba seized his spears and shield, and followed by his chosen band bounded out of his camp to meet the advancing Wanyora.

Fired with indignation and shame, Setuba soon met the Wanyora, and began flinging his spears with splendid effect. With his first spear he killed three, with the second he slew two more. The fugitives, seeing the vigour and courage of their chief, halted, and began to ask of one another, “Who dares go and tell Suna that Setuba is dead? Let us fight and die with Setuba.”

The word “Setuba, tuba, tuba!” became a war-cry, echoed fiercely far and near, turning the fugitives on their pursuers, who in a short time became the pursued. For two days the Waganda rioted in the blood of the now terror-stricken Wanyora, who were finally compelled to fly to the summit of the mountains for refuge, leaving their families and cattle in the valleys to be swept away by the fierce Waganda.

On returning to Uganda Setuba sent 2000 women, 4000 children, and 2000 heads of cattle, besides goats and sheep without number, to the Emperor as his share, and Setuba heard Suna declare proudly that he knew of no monarch who could show heroes to equal Setuba and Namujurilwa, and that his heart was big with pride.

There stood that day, when the Emperor publicly mentioned with praise the names of Setuba and Namujurilwa, a young man listening to him, who from that moment resolved to eclipse both chiefs. His name was Kasindula, a sub-chief or Mtongoleh of the great Sekebobo’s country of Chagwe, who had neither pride of birth nor riches to boast of. He was a mere worthy young fellow, who had distinguished himself in a few engagements under Sekebobo, for which the old chief had promoted him from a peasant (_kopi_) to be a sub-chief (_mtongoleh_).

A few days after the great levee of Suna, Kasindula proceeded to Sekebobo, and requested him to ask permission of the Emperor that he should be allowed to rebuild his majesty’s camp at Jinja, as many of the huts were in a most ruinous state, and many of Suna’s women were compelled to sleep in the open air.

Sekebobo introduced Kasindula to the Emperor, and preferred his request to him, who graciously acceded to it, adding that it was not every day that men came to ask leave to do him a service: they generally asked him for some gift or other.

Kasindula was profuse in his thanks, and then departed with 2000 men from Sekebobo to assist him in the work of reconstructing the imperial camp at Jinja, and the kind old chief also gave him several large canoes, to transport the working force across Napoleon Channel.

The young chief lost no time after his arrival at Jinja, but industriously set to work, and in a few days had entirely rebuilt the houses, and surrounded them with their respective courts, and had cleared the whole camp from much accumulated rubbish, until the camp would have pleased even fastidious Suna himself.

He then caused the war-drum to be sounded, and, responding to its ominous call, all who were capable of lifting the spear, dwelling in the neighbourhood of Jinja, gathered round Kasindula, who said:—

“Warriors of Uganda and children of Suna, listen to me. You know how, after Suna slew the rebellious Wasoga before Kitenteh Island, that the chiefs of Usoga all came and swore allegiance to him; and how, when Suna had returned to Uganda, the Wasoga chief Rura headed another rebellion, and challenged Suna to return to Usoga to fight him. When Suna heard the challenge of the boastful Rura, he only smiled, and said, ‘Let him wait a little.’ Suna is too great to fight with Rura, for Kasindula, a Mtongoleh of Sekebobo, is sufficient for him. To-night we march to Nakaranga, and to-morrow morning before sunrise Rura shall sleep with his brothers who died before Kitenteh. Warriors, prepare yourselves!”

Though Nakaranga was fully thirty miles from Jinja, Kasindula had reached about midnight the principal village of the chief, and after surrounding it with his people, fired the huts at daybreak, thus expelling the sleeping Wasoga from them, to fall by the spears of the ambushed Waganda. Having made clean work of all Rura’s district, Kasindula gathered the spoil, and long before noon was far on his return to Jinja.

The Usoga confederacy, hearing of this raid and of the death of Rura and his sons, hurried to Nakaranga to avenge the slaughter, but they found only black desolation and emptiness in Rura’s district, while the raiders had escaped in safety to Jinja, whither they dared not follow them, and accordingly returned, each chief to his own district.

After a few days’ rest Kasindula made another raid in a totally different direction with similar results, and again the Wasoga hurried up, only to find the houses all consumed, the warriors all dead, and the women and children and cattle all deported away.

“What manner of man is this,” asked the astonished Wasoga of one another, “who comes in the night, like a hyena, and vanishes with the daylight, with his maw gorged with blood?” Consoling themselves, however, with a vow to be revenged on him at a fitting opportunity, they returned again to their own districts.

But hard upon their heels followed the wary and resolute Kasindula; and again he destroyed an entire district, with all its males, and carried the women and children into captivity. This news was too disheartening to the Wasoga, for now they began to dread that they would be utterly destroyed in detail, whereupon, perceiving that their principal chiefs were all dead, they sent an embassy to Suna, with a tribute of the most comely women and a large quantity of maramba, asking his forgiveness.

Kasindula, meanwhile, finding his hands full of spoil, collected all together, and drove his captives and cattle, by forced marches, to Suna, who, warned of his approach, prepared to receive him in state and in a full assembly of the chiefs.

Having arranged the women and children by thousands before him, and parked the cattle in full view of the Emperor, Kasindula, clad in a humble and dingy bark cloth, prostrated himself before him and said:—

“Great Kabaka, I went to Jinja, and built your camp, and housed your women as you commanded me; and hearing how Namujurilwa and Setuba had avenged you on the Wasagara and Wanyoro, I thought myself strong enough to answer the challenge sent by Rura and his friends to you.

“My dear lord, Namujurilwa and Setuba are great chiefs, and stand in your presence daily, but I am only a Mtongoleh under Sekebobo. I have neither farm nor house, wife nor child, and my only wealth consists of my spear and my shield, and my only cloth is this rotten _mbugu_. Namujurilwa and Setuba brought slaves and cattle by hundreds, but the _kopi_ Kasindula brings his thousands to Suna. Behold where they stand! Kasindula brings them all to Suna.” And putting his hands together, he cried aloud, “Twiyanzi, yanzi, yanzi, yanzi!” with all the fervour of one having received a bountiful gift.

The Emperor, upon inquiring the number of the spoil, was told that it amounted to 7000 slaves, 2000 cows and oxen, 3000 goats, and 500 sheep; upon which he said, “Kasindula has spoken truly; he has brought more than either Namujurilwa or Setuba. In return, I make him now a chief of the first rank, with land, cattle, and slaves of his own.” And Kasindula was immediately invested with white cloths, and with all the honours, privileges, and greatness of a _Mkungu_ of Uganda.

After this turbulent epoch there were some months of tranquillity, when one day there came a challenge from Kytawa, the mighty king of Uzongora, who had made an alliance with the kings Kyozza, Kamiru, and Rugomero, and with Antari, king of Ihangiro, against Suna.

The Emperor sent the messenger of Kytawa back to him with a bullet and a hoe, saying, “Give these to Kytawa; tell him to choose whether he will take the bullet and have war, or whether he will keep the hoe and cultivate his fields in peace; and bring his answer to me.”

Kytawa imagined himself and his allies strong enough to meet Suna in war, and kept the bullet. When the messenger returned with this answer, Suna commanded his Katekiro to make up 300 man-loads of hoes and old iron and to send them to Kytawa, and to say to him, “Suna sends these hoes and iron to you, for may be that you are short of spears, arrow-heads, and hatchets. Make war weapons for your people in abundance during three months, and prepare for war, for in the fourth month you shall see me and my people in your country, and I shall eat it up clean, and there shall nothing be left alive in it.”

This was the last war in which Suna was engaged. After three days’ desperate fighting the Wazongora and their allies were defeated, and Kytawa and the confederate kings were compelled to fly for refuge to the island of Kishakka, where they were besieged, until all the kings implored forgiveness, and swore to become tributary to him.

Falling ill from small-pox, the Emperor accepted their oaths, and, raising the siege, departed for Uganda. When he perceived that he was about to die, he called his chiefs together and commanded them to make Kajumba, his eldest son, his successor.

This Kajumba, the Prince Imperial, however, was no favourite with the Waganda, for he appears to have been a violent, headstrong youth of gigantic size and strength. These qualities recommended him strongly to Suna, who thought that with such a successor Uganda would retain its prestige and supremacy, and apprehended nothing of danger to his own people in a person of such violent passions; and, indeed, it is to be doubted whether, after exercising with the utmost licence his own undisputed authority, he even thought them worthy of consideration.

Kajumba was Suna’s favourite, and the war-loving father on his death-bed pointed out with pride to his chiefs the heroic qualities of the prince, reminded them how when a mere boy he had slain a buffalo with a club and an elephant with a single spear, and assured them with his latest breath that Kajumba would become more renowned than either lion-like Kimera or renowned Nakivingi.

After his father’s death Prince Kajumba seized his weighty spear and ample shield and proclaimed himself his father’s successor and choice, and announced his determination to uphold his dignity to the death. The chiefs, however, fearing Kajumba’s violence, laid hands on him, and bound him hand and foot, and selected the mild-spoken, large-eyed boy Mtesa, and made him Emperor of Uganda by acclamation.

Suna was then buried with all the usual pomp attending such ceremonies in Uganda; and the young Emperor, having paid all honour to his father’s remains, and feeling himself firmly established in power, began to reveal the true spirit which had been masked by the fair speech and large eyes.

He soon found reasons for slaying all his brothers, and, having disposed of them, turned upon the chiefs, who had elected him Emperor of Uganda, and put them to death, saying that he would have no subject about him to remind him that he owed his sovereignty to him.

According to his father’s custom, he butchered all who gave him offence, and that lion in war, Namujurilwa, as also the Katekiro, he caused to be beheaded. Frequently, when in a passion, he would take his spear in hand and rush to his harem, and spear his women until his thirst for blood was slaked.

It is probable that Mtesa was of this temper when Speke saw him, and that he continued in it until he was converted by the Arab Muley bin Salim into a fervid Muslim. After this, however, he became more humane, abstained from the strong native beer which used to fire his blood, and renounced the blood-shedding custom of his fathers.

Mtesa’s reign, like that of his predecessor, has been distinguished by victories over many nations, such as the Wanyankori, Wanyoro, Wasui, Wazongora, and Wasoga, and his Katekiro has carried his victorious flag to Ruanda and to Usongora on the Muta Nzigé. He has likewise sent embassies to the Khedive’s pasha of Gondokoro, to Sultans Majid and Barghash of Zanzibar, and, having entertained most hospitably Captains Speke and Grant, Colonel Long of the Egyptian army, myself, and M. Linant de Bellefonds, is now desirous of becoming more intimate with Europe, to introduce specie into his country, and to employ European artisans to teach his people.

For the interesting facts of the preceding pages, the world is indebted to the gossip Sabadu, for until his revelations, as herein recorded, Uganda and a large portion of Equatorial Africa were (to use the words of ancient Pistol) liked a closed oyster, but which now, with his aid, we have partly opened, thus obtaining glimpses, however unsatisfactory, into the origin, custom, and history of the country. An epic poem might be written upon the legend of the search for the lost patriarch, or a prose romance, for there is material enough for a great work in the tale Sabadu told me.

If we begin to speculate as to who this Kintu, the blameless priest, really was, and whether the legend does not bear some dim and vague resemblance to the histories of Adam or Noah, handed down from generation to generation through remote times among an unlettered people, we may easily become lost in a maze of wild theories and conjectures. There is, however, just as much ground for building such suppositions, and to plausibly demonstrate them to be actualities and facts, as there is for many other fables now generally accepted as verities.

It is impossible, while reading the tale of Kintu, the Blameless Priest, not to be reminded at one time of Adam, at another of Noah—for both Adam and Noah found the earth void and uninhabited, as Kintu is said to have found Uganda and the neighbouring lands. In the gigantic Kimera, “the mighty hunter,” we remember Nimrod, and in the wicked children of the patriarch can suspect a faint resemblance to the shameless Ham. The prolific wife, and no less prolific cow, goat, sheep, and the wonderful banana-plant, have their counterparts in the traditions of every people under the sun. And do we not ourselves believe

“That all began In Eden’s shade, and one created man”?

The ingenious mind can also find the prototype of the miraculously flying Kibaga in the angel that destroyed the first-born of Egypt, or that other who smote the host of Assyria; and Nakivingi, or Chabagu and his mighty warrior Wakinguru, might stand for David and his champions, and the final disappearance of Kintu may be taken to represent the end of the age of miracles. But speculation on these points will only lead one into wild and vain theories: and it is enough for the purposes of this book to accept the tale of Kintu as a simple tradition of Central Africa.

There is great reason to believe, however, that Kintu, if not a myth, is a far more ancient personage than Mtesa’s list of kings would lead us to suppose. At any rate, from other sources I have collected the names of three kings of Uganda omitted by him. These are Semi-kokiro, Karago, and Kimguvu.

That the reader may be able to estimate the duration of the Uganda monarchy, I append in a tabular form the list of the kings, including the names of the three kings not mentioned by Mtesa:—

1. Kintu. 2. Chwa. 3. Kamiera. 4. Kimera. 5. Almass. 6. Tembo. 7. Kigara. 8. Wanpamba 9. Kaeema. 10. Semi-kokiro. 11. Karago.

12. Nakivingi. 13. Morondo. 14. Sekamanya. 15. Kimguvu. 16. Jemba. 17. Suna I. 18. Kimbugwé. 19. Katerega. 20. Ntewi. 21. Juko. 22. Kyemba. 23. Tiwandeké. 24. Mdowra.

25. Kaguru. 26. Kikuruwé. 27. Ma’anda. 28. Msangi. 29. Namugara. 30. Chabagu. 31. Junju. 32. Wasejé. 33. Kamanya. 31. Suna II. 35. Mtesa.

The above forms a very respectable list of kings for a country in Central Africa, and proves Uganda to be a monarchy of no mean antiquity, if the number of names may be taken as any indication. Many names may also have been forgotten—to be resuscitated perhaps by some future traveller with the patience and time at command to rescue them from oblivion.

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# 22:

Some of the Waganda believe, however, that Kintu, or Ham, as Mtesa now believes him to be, was buried at Magonga; but I prefer to adhere to the legend as it was related to me.

# 23:

I have been struck at the frequent geographical hints thrown out by Sabadu.

# 24:

Another geographical hint, which has been verified by investigation. I have no doubt the Nagombwa will turn out to be the Asua.

# 25:

I have observed that Sabadu’s narrative contains many interesting ethnological facts. Perhaps the reader needs to be informed that I stenographed Sabadu’s story as he related it to me before my camp fire at Nakaranga.

# 26:

In almost exactly the same manner the Wavuma daily taunted Mtesa.

# 27:

Majwara is the little boy who alone watched the last hours of Dr. Livingstone.

# 28:

Each Mkungu is invested with a barony or county upon attaining this high rank, and with absolute authority over the people and their effects, upon condition of rendering service to his sovereign whenever required. The least dereliction of duty would entail a forfeiture of lands, and often of life.