Part 3

The usual way of disposing of a corpse in former times was, to carry it out on the head and to throw it into some jungle strip where the fisi or cynhyæna abounds,--a custom which accounts for the absence of graveyards. The Wanyamwezi at first objected to the Arabs publicly burying their dead in their fields, for fear of pollution; they would assemble in crowds to close the way against a funeral party. The merchants, however, persevered till they succeeded in establishing a right. When a Mnyamwezi dies in a strange country, and his comrades take the trouble to inter him, they turn the face of the corpse towards the mother’s village, a proceeding which shows more sentiment than might be expected from them. The body is buried standing, or tightly bound in a heap, or placed in a sitting position with the arms clasping the knees: if the deceased be a great man, a sheep and a bullock are slaughtered for a funeral feast, the skin is placed over his face, and the hide is bound to his back. When a sultan dies in a foreign land his body is buried upon the spot, and his head, or what remains of it, is carried back for sepulture to his own country. The chiefs of Unyamwezi generally are interred by a large assemblage of their subjects with cruel rites. A deep pit is sunk, with a kind of vault or recess projecting from it: in this the corpse, clothed with skin and hide, and holding a bow in the right hand, is placed sitting, with a pot of pombe, upon a dwarf stool, whilst sometimes one, but more generally three female slaves, one on each side and the third in front, are buried alive to preserve their lord from the horrors of solitude. A copious libation of pombe upon the heaped-up earth concludes the ceremony. According to the Arabs, the Wasukuma inter all their sultans in a jungle north of Unyanyembe, and the neighbouring peasants deposit before seed-time small offerings of grain at the Mzimo or Fetiss-house which marks the spot.

The habitations of the eastern Wanyamwezi are the Tembe, which in the west give way to the circular African hut; among the poorer sub-tribes the dwelling is a mere stack of straw. The best Tembe have large projecting eaves supported by uprights: cleanliness, however, can never be expected in them. Having no limestone, the people ornament the inner and outer walls with long lines of ovals formed by pressing the finger tips, after dipping them into ashes and water for whitewash, and into red clay or black mud for variety of colour. With this primitive material they sometimes attempt rude imitations of nature--human beings and serpents. In some parts the cross appears, but the people apparently ignore it as a symbol. Rude carving is also attempted upon the massive posts at the entrances of villages, but the figures, though to appearance idolatrous, are never worshipped. The household furniture of the Tembe differs little from that described in the villages generally. The large sloping Kitanda, or bedstead of peeled tree-branch, supported by forked sticks, and provided with a bedding of mat and cowhide, occupies the greater part of the outer room. The triangle of clay cones forming the hearth are generally placed for light near the wall-side opposite the front door; and the rest of the supellex consists of large stationary bark cornbins, of gourds and bandboxes slung from the roof, earthen-pots of black clay, huge ladles, pipes, grass-mats, grinding-stones, and arms hung to a trimmed and branchy tree trunk planted upright in a corner. The rooms are divided by party walls, which, except when separating families, seldom reach to the ceiling. The fireplace acts as lamp by night, and the door is the only chimney.

The characteristic of the Mnyamwezi village is the “İwánzá”--a convenience resulting probably from the instinct of the sexes, who prefer not to mingle, and for the greater freedom of life and manners. Of these buildings there are two in every settlement, generally built at opposite sides, fronting the normal Mrimba-tree, which sheds its filmy shade over the public court-yard. That of the women, being a species of harem, was not visited; as travellers and strangers are always admitted into the male İwánzá, it is more readily described. This public-house is a large hut, somewhat more substantial than those adjoining, often smeared with smooth clay, and decorated here and there with broad columns of the ovals before described, and the prints of palms dipped in ashes and placed flat like the hands in ancient Egyptian buildings. The roof is generally a flying thatch raised a foot above the walls--an excellent plan for ventilation in these regions. Outside, the İwánzá is defended against the incursions of cattle by roughly-barked trunks of trees resting upon stout uprights: in this space men sit, converse, and smoke. The two doorways are protected by rude charms suspended from the lintel, hares’ tails, zebras’ manes, goats’ horns, and other articles of prophylactic virtue. Inside, half the depth is appropriated to the Ubiri, a huge standing bedframe, formed, like the plank-benches of a civilised guard-room, by sleepers lying upon horizontal cross-bars: these are supported by forked trunks about two feet long planted firmly in the ground. The floor is of tamped earth. The furniture of the İwánzá consists of a hearth and grinding-stone; spears, sticks, arrows, and shillelaghs are stuck to smoke in the dingy rafter ceiling, or are laid upon hooks of crooked wood depending from the sooty cross-beams: the corners are occupied by bellows, elephant-spears, and similar articles. In this “public” the villagers spend their days, and often, even though married, their nights, gambling, eating, drinking pombe, smoking bhang and tobacco, chatting, and sleeping like a litter of puppies destitute of clothing, and using one another’s backs, breasts, and stomachs as pillows. The İwánzá appears almost peculiar to Unyamwezi.

In Unyamwezi the sexes do not eat together: even the boys would disdain to be seen sitting at meat with their mothers. The men feed either in their cottages or more generally in the İwánzá: they make, when they can, two meals during the day--in the morning, a breakfast, which is often omitted for economy, and a dinner about 3 P.M. During the interim they chew tobacco, and, that failing, indulge in a quid of clay. It probably contains some animal matter, but the chief reason for using it is apparently the necessity to barbarians of whiling away the time when not sleeping by exercising their jaws. They prefer the “sweet earth,” that is to say, the clay of ant-hills: the Arabs have tried it without other effects but nausea. The custom, however, is not uncommon upon both coasts of Africa: it takes, in fact, the place of the mastic of Chios, the kat of Yemen, the betel and toasted grains of India and the farther East, and the ashes of the Somali country. The Wanyamwezi, and indeed the East-African tribes generally, have some curious food prejudices. Before their closer intercourse with the Arabs they used to keep poultry, but, like the Gallas and the Somal, who look upon the fowl as a kind of vulture, they would not eat it: even in the present day they avoid eggs. Some will devour animals that have died of disease, and carrion,--the flesh of lions and leopards, elephants and rhinoceroses, asses, wild cats and rats, beetles and white ants;--others refuse to touch mutton or clean water-fowl, declaring that it is not their custom. The prejudice has not, however, been reduced to a system, as amongst the tribes of southern Africa. They rarely taste meat except upon the march, where the prospect of gain excites them to an unusual indulgence: when a bullock is killed, they either jerk the meat, or dry it upon a dwarf platform of sticks raised above a slow and smoky fire, after which it will keep for some days. The usual food is the ugali or porridge of boiled flour: they find, however, a variety of edible herbs in the jungle, and during the season they luxuriate upon honey and sour milk. No Mnyamwezi, however, will own to repletion unless he has “sat upon pombe,”--in other words, has drunk to intoxication; and the chiefs pride themselves upon living entirely upon beef and stimulants.

The Wanyamwezi have won for themselves a reputation by their commercial industry. Encouraged by the merchants, they are the only professional porters of East Africa; and even amongst them, the Wakalaganza, Wasumbwa, and Wasukuma are the only tribes who regularly visit the coast in this capacity. They are now no longer “honest and civil to strangers”--semi-civilisation has hitherto tended to degradation. They seem to have learned but little by their intercourse with the Arabs. Commerce with them is still in its infancy. They have no idea of credit, although in Karagwah and the northern kingdoms payment may be delayed for a period of two years. They cannot, like some of their neighbours, bargain: a man names the article which he requires, and if it be not forthcoming he will take no other. The porters, who linger upon the coast or in the island of Zanzibar, either cut grass for asses, carry stones and mortar to the town, for which they receive a daily hire of from two to eight pice, or they obtain from the larger landholders permission to reclaim and cultivate a plot of ground for vegetables and manioc. They have little of the literature, songs and tales, common amongst barbarians; and though they occasionally indulge in speeches, they do not, like many kindred tribes, cultivate eloquence. On the march they beguile themselves with chanting for hours together half a dozen words eternally repeated. Their language is copious but confused, and they are immoderately fond of simple and meaningless syllables used as interjections. Their industry is confined to weaving coarse cloths of unbleached cotton, neatly-woven baskets, wooden milk-bowls, saddle-bags for their asses, and arms. They rear asses and load them lightly when travelling to the coast, but they have not yet learned to ride them. Though they carefully fence and ditch their fields, they have never invented a plough, confining themselves to ridging the land with the laborious hoe. They rarely sell one another, nor do they much encourage the desertion of slaves. The wild bondsman, when running away, is sometimes appropriated by his captor, but a Muwallid or domestic slave is always restored after a month or two. The Arabs prefer to purchase men sold under suspicion of magic; they rarely flee, fearing lest their countrymen should put them to death.

As has been said, the government of Unyamwezi is conducted by a multitude of petty chiefs. The ruling classes are thus called: Mtemi or Mwáme is the chief or sultan, Mgáwe (in the plural Wágáwe) the principal councillor, and Mánácháro, or Mnyapara (plural Wányápárá) the elder. The ryots or subjects on the other hand are collectively styled Wasengi. The most powerful chiefs are Fundikira of Unyanyembe, Masanga of Msene, and Kafrira of Kiríra. The dignity of Mtemi is hereditary. He has power of life and death over his subjects, and he seldom condescends to any but mortal punishment. His revenue is composed of additions to his private property by presents from travellers, confiscation of effects in cases of felony or magic, by the sale of subjects, and by treasure trove. Even if a man kill his own slave, the slave’s effects lapse to the ruler. The villagers must give up all ivory found in the jungles, although the hunters are allowed to retain the tusks of the slaughtered animals.

A few brief remarks concerning Fundikira, the chief of Unyamwezi in 1858, may serve to illustrate the condition of the ruling class in Unyamwezi. This chief was travelling towards the coast as a porter in a caravan, when he heard of his father’s death: he at once stacked his load and prepared to return home and rule. The rest of the gang, before allowing him to depart, taunted him severely, exclaiming, partly in jest, partly in earnest, “Ah! now thou art still our comrade, but presently thou wilt torture and slay, fine and flog us.” Fundikira proceeding to his native country inherited, as is the custom, all his father’s property and widows; he fixed himself at Ititenya, presently numbered ten wives, who have borne him only three children, built 300 houses for his slaves and dependants, and owned 2000 head of cattle. He lived in some state, declining to call upon strangers, and, though not demanding still obtaining large presents. Becoming obese by age and good living, he fell ill in the autumn of 1858, and, as usual, his relations were suspected of compassing his end by Uchawi, or black magic. In these regions the death of one man causes many. The Mganga was summoned to apply the usual ordeal. After administering a mystic drug, he broke the neck of a fowl, and splitting it into two lengths inspected the interior. If blackness or blemish appear about the wings, it denotes the treachery of children, relations and kinsmen; the backbone convicts the mother and grandmother; the tail shows that the criminal is the wife, the thighs the concubines, and the injured shanks or feet the other slaves. Having fixed upon the class of the criminals, they are collected together by the Mganga, who, after similarly dosing a second hen, throws her up into the air above the heads of the crowd and singles out the person upon whom she alights. Confession is extorted by tying the thumb backwards till it touches the wrist or by some equally barbarous mode of question. The consequence of condemnation is certain and immediate death; the mode is chosen by the Mganga. Some are speared, others are beheaded or “ammazati,”--clubbed:--a common way is to bind the cranium between two stiff pieces of wood which are gradually tightened by cords till the brain bursts out from the sutures. For women they practise a peculiarly horrible kind of impalement. These atrocities continue until the chief recovers or dies: at the commencement of his attack, in one household eighteen souls, male and female, had been destroyed; should his illness be protracted, scores will precede him to the grave, for the Mchawi or magician must surely die.

The Wanyamwezi will generally sell their criminals and captives; when want drives, they part with their wives, their children, and even their parents. For economy, they import their serviles from Ujiji and the adjoining regions; from the people lying towards the south-east angle of the Tanganyika Lake, as the Wafipa, the Wapoka, and the Wagara; and from the Nyanza races, and the northern kingdoms of Karagwah, Uganda, and Unyoro.

[Illustration: My Tembe near the Tanganyika.]

CHAP. XIII.

AT LENGTH WE SIGHT THE LAKE TANGANYIKA, THE “SEA OF UJIJI.”

The route before us lay through a howling wilderness, once populous and fertile, but now laid waste by the fierce Watuta. Snay bin Amir had warned me that it would be our greatest trial of patience. The march began badly: Mpete, the district on the right bank of the Malagarazi River, is highly malarious, and the mosquitoes feasted right royally upon our life, even during the day-time. We bivouacked under a shady tree, within sight of the ferry, not knowing that upon the woody eminences above the valley there are usually fine kraals of dry grass and of mkora or myombo-bark. During the rainy monsoon the best encampments in these regions are made of tree-sheets: two parallel rings are cut in the bole, at a distance of six to seven feet; a perpendicular slit then connects them, the bark is easily stripped off, and the trunk, after having been left for a time to season, is filled for use.

On the 5th of February we set out betimes, across a route traversing for a short distance swampy ground along the river-side. It then stretched over jungly and wooded hill-spires, with steep rough ascents and descents, divided from neighbouring elevations by slippery mire-runs. Exposed to the full break of the rainy monsoon, and the frequent outbursts of fiery sun, I could not but admire the marvellous fertility of the soil; an impervious luxuriance of vegetation veils the lowlands, clothes the hill-sides, and caps their rounded summits. After marching five hours and twenty minutes, we found a large kraal in the district of Kinawani: the encamping ground,--partially cleared of the thick, fetid, and putrescent vegetation around,--hugs the right bank of the Malagarazi, and faces the village of Sultan Mzogera on the southern or opposite side. A small store of provisions--grain and sweet-potatoes--was purchased from the villagers of Kinawani, who flocked across the stream to trade. They were, however, fanciful in their requirements: beads, especially the coral porcelain, iron-wire, salt, and meat. The heaviness of this march caused two of the Hammals engaged at Usagozi to levant, and the remaining four to strike work. It was therefore again necessary to mount ass--ten days after an attack of “paraplegia!”

We left Kinawani on the next morning, and striking away from the river we crossed rugged and rolling ground, divided by deep swamps of mire and grass. To the southward ran the stream, rushing violently down a rocky bed, with tall trees lining its banks. Sailing before the morning east-wind, a huge mass of nimbus occupied the sky, and presently discharged itself in an unusually heavy downfall: during the afternoon the breeze veered as usual to the west, and the hot sunshine was for once enjoyable. After a weary trudge of five hours and twenty minutes, we entered a large and comfortable kraal, situated near a reach where the swift and turbid river foamed over a discontinuous ledge of rock, between avenues of dense and tangled jungle. No provisions were procurable at this place; man appeared to have become extinct.

The 7th of February led us over broken ground, encumbered by forest, and cut by swamps, with higher levels on the right hand, till we again fell into the marshes and fields of the river-valley. The district on the other side of the river, called Jambeho, is one of the most flourishing in Uvinza; its villages of small bird-nest huts, and its carefully hoed fields of grain and sweet-potato, affected the eye, after the dreary monotony of a jungle-march, like the glimmer of a light at the end of a night-march, or the discovery of land at the conclusion of a long sea-voyage. The village ferry was instantly put into requisition, and the chief, Ruwere, after receiving as his “dash” eight cloths, allowed us to purchase provisions. At that season, however, the harvest of grain and sweet-potatoes had not been got in, and for their single old hen the people demanded an exorbitant price. We hastened, despite all difficulties, to escape from this place of pestilence, which clouds of mosquitoes rendered as uncomfortable as it was dangerous.

The next day ushered in our departure with drizzling rain, which drenched the slippery paths of red clay; the asses, wild with wind and weather, exposed us to accidents in a country of deep ravines and rugged boulders. Presently diverging from the Malagarazi, we passed over the brow of a low tree-clad hill above the junction of the Rusugi River, and followed the left bank of this tributary as far as its nearer ford. The Rusugi which drains the northern highlands into the Malagarazi, was then about 100 yards in width: the bottom is a red ochreish soil, the strong stream, divided in the centre by a long low strip of sand and gravel, flowed at that time breast-deep, and its banks,--as usual with rivers in these lands,--deeply cut by narrow watercourses, rendered travelling unusually toilsome. At the Rusugi Ford the road separates into a northern and a southern branch, a hill-spur forming the line of demarcation. The northern strikes off to the district of Parugerero on the left bank, where a shallower ford is found: the place in question is a settlement of Wavinza, containing from forty to fifty bee-hive huts, tenanted by salt-diggers. The principal pan is sunk in the vicinity of the river, the saline produce, after being boiled down in the huts, is piled up, and handmade into little cones. The pan affords tripartite revenue to three sultans, and it constitutes the principal wealth of the Wavinza: the salt here sold for one shukkah per masuta, or half-load, and far superior to the bitter, nitrous produce of Ugogo, finds its way throughout the heart of Africa, supplying the lands adjoining both the Tanganyika and the Nyanza Lakes.

We followed the southern line which crosses the Rusugi River at the branch islet. Fords are always picturesque. The men seemed to enjoy the washing; their numbers protected them from the crocodiles, which fled from their shouting and splashing; and they even ventured into deep water, where swimming was necessary. We crossed as usual on a “unicorn” of negroids, the upper part of the body supported by two men, and the feet resting upon the shoulders of a third,--a posture somewhat similar to that affected by gentlemen who find themselves unable to pull off their own boots. Then remounting, we ascended the grassy rise on the right of the stream, struggled, slipped, and slided over a muddy swamp, climbed up a rocky and bushy ridge, and found ourselves ensconced in a ragged and comfortless kraal upon the western slopes, within sight of some deserted salt-pans below. As evening drew in, it became apparent that the Goanese Gaetano, the five Wak’hutu porters, and Sarmalla, a donkey-driving son of Ramji, had remained behind, in company with several loads, the tent, two bags of clothes, my companion’s elephant-gun, my bedding, and that of my servant. It was certain that with this provision in the vicinity of Parugerero they would not starve, and the porters positively refused to halt an hour more than necessary. I found it therefore compulsory to advance. On the 11th February three “children” of Said bin Salim consented, as usual, for a consideration, to return and to bring up the laggers, and about a week afterwards they entered Ujiji without accident. The five Wak’hutu porters, probably from the persuasions of Muinyi Wazira, had, although sworn to fidelity with the strongest oaths, carried into execution a long-organised plan of desertion. Gaetano refused to march on the day of our separation, because he was feverish, and he expected a riding-ass to be sent back for him. He brought up our goods safely, but blankets, towels, and many articles of clothing belonging to his companion, had disappeared. This difficulty was, of course, attributed to the Wak’hutu porters; probably the missing things had been sold for food by the Goanese and the son of Ramji: I could not therefore complain of the excuse.