Part 7

Remain for consideration the people of Ubuha and Uhha. The Wabuha is a small and insignificant tribe bounded on the north by Uhha, and on the south by the Malagarazi River: the total breadth is about three marches; the length, from the Rusugi stream of the Wavinza to the frontiers of Ujiji and Ukaranga, is in all a distance of four days. Their principal settlement is Uyonwa, the district of Sultan Mariki: it is a mere clearing in the jungle, with a few pauper huts dotting fields of sweet potatoes. This harmless and oppressed people will sell provisions, but though poor they are particular upon the subject of beads, preferring coral and blue to the exclusion of black and white. They are a dark, curly-headed, and hard-favoured race: they wear the shushah or top-knot on the poll, dress in skins and tree-barks, ornament themselves with brass and copper armlets, ivory disks, and beads, and are never without their weapons, spears and assegais, sime or daggers, and small battle-axes. Honourable women wear tobes of red broadcloth and fillets of grass or fibre confining the hair.

Uhha, written by Mr. Cooley Oha, was formerly a large tract of land bounded on the north by the mountains of Urundi, southwards and eastwards by the Malagarazi River, and on the west by the northern parts of Ujiji. As has been recounted, the Wahha dispersed by the Watuta have dispersed themselves over the broad lands between Unyanyembe and the Tanganyika, and their own fertile country, well stocked with the finest cattle, has become a waste of jungle. A remnant of the tribe, under Kanoni, their present Sultan, son of the late T’háre, took refuge in the highlands of Urundi, not far from the principal settlement of the mountain king Mwezí: here they find water and pasture for their herds, and the strength of the country enables them to beat off their enemies. The Wahha are a comparatively fair and a not uncomely race; they are however universally held to be a vile and servile people; according to the Arabs they came originally from the southern regions, the most ancient seat of slavery in E. Africa. Their Sultans or chiefs are of Wahinda or princely origin, probably descendants from the regal race of Unyamwezi. Wahha slaves sell dearly at Msene; an adult male costs from five to six doti merkani, and a full-grown girl one gorah merkani or kaniki.

[Illustration: Head Dresses of Wanyamwezi.]

CHAP. XIV.

WE EXPLORE THE TANGANYIKA LAKE.

My first care after settling in Hamid’s Tembe, was to purify the floor by pastiles of assafœtida, and fumigations of gunpowder; my second was to prepare the roof for the rainy season. Improvement, however, progressed slowly; the “children” of Said bin Salim were too lazy to work; and the Wanyamwezi porters, having expended their hire in slaves, and fearing loss by delay, took the earliest opportunity of deserting. By the aid of a Msawahili artisan, I provided a pair of cartels, with substitutes for chairs and tables. Benches of clay were built round the rooms, but they proved useless, being found regularly every morning occupied in force by a swarming, struggling colony, of the largest white ants. The roof, long overgrown with tall grass, was fortified with an extra coat of mud; it never ceased, however, leaking like a colander; presently the floor was covered with deep puddles, then masses of earth dropped from the sopped copings and sides of the solid walls, and, at last, during the violent showers, half the building fell in. The consequence of the extreme humidity was, that every book which had English paste in it was rendered useless by decay; writing was rendered illegible by stains and black mildew; moreover, during my absence, whilst exploring the Lake, Said bin Salim having neglected to keep a fire, as was ordered, constantly burning in the house, a large botanical collection was irretrievably lost. This was the more regretable as our return to the coast took place during the dry season, when the woods were bare of leaf, flower, and fruit.

On the second day after my arrival I was called upon by “Kannena,” the headman of Kawele, under Rusimba, the Mwami, or principal chief of Ujiji. I had heard a bad account of the former. His predecessor, Kabeza, a great favourite with the Arabs, had died about two months before we entered Kawele, leaving a single son, hardly ten years old, and Kannena, a slave, having the art to please the widows of the deceased, and, through them, the tribe, caused himself to be elected temporary headman during the heir’s minority. He was introduced habited in silk turban and broadcloth coat, which I afterwards heard he had borrowed from the Baloch, in order to put in a prepossessing first appearance. The effort, however, failed; his aspect was truly ignoble; a short, squat, and broad-backed figure, with natural “plumpers,” a black skin cut and carved in various patterns, thick straight, stumpy, legs, and huge splay feet; his low narrow brow was ever knotted into a peevish frown, his apology for a nose much resembled the pug with which the ancients provided Silenus, and a villanous expression lurked about the depressed corners of his thick-lipped, sensual, liquorish mouth. On this occasion he behaved with remarkable civility, and he introduced, as the envoys commissioned by the great Rusimba to receive his blackmail, two gentlemen a quarter-clad in the greasiest and scantiest bark-aprons, and armed with dwarfish battle-axes. The present was finally settled at ten coil-bracelets and two fundi of coral-beads. I had no salt--the first article in demand--to spare, or much valuable merchandise might have been saved. The return was six small bundles of grain, worth, probably, one-tenth of what had been received. Then Kannena opened trade by sending us a nominal gift, a fine ivory, weighing at least seventy pounds, and worth, perhaps, one hundred pounds, or nearly two mens’ loads of the white or blue-porcelain beads used in this traffic. After keeping it for a day or two, I returned it, excusing myself by saying that, having visited the Tanganyika as a “Sarkal,” I could have no dealings in ivory and slaves.

This was right and proper in the character of a “Sarkal.” But future adventurers are strongly advised always to assume the character of traders. In the first place, it explains the traveller’s motives to the people, who otherwise lose themselves in a waste of wild conjecture. Secondly, under this plea, the explorer can push forward into unknown countries; he will be civilly received, and lightly fined, because the hosts expect to see him or his semblables again; whereas, appearing without ostensible motive amongst them, he would be stripped of his last cloth by recurring confiscations, fines, and every annoyance which greed of gain can suggest. Thus, as the sequel will prove, he loses more by overcharges than by the trifling outlay necessary to support the character of a trader. He travels respectably as a “Mundewa” or “Tajir,” a merchant, which is ever the highest title given by the people to strangers; and he can avoid exciting the jealousy of the Arabs by exchanging his tusks with them at a trifling loss when comforts or provisions are required for the road.

So strange an announcement on my part aroused, as may be supposed, in the minds of the Wajiji marvel, doubt, disbelief, ill-will. “These are men who live by doing nothing!” exclaimed the race commercial as the sons of Hamburg; and they lost no time in requesting me to quit their territory sooner than convenient. To this I objected, offering, however, as compensation for the loss of their octrois and perquisites to pay for not trading what others paid for trading. Kannena roughly informed me that he had a claim for Kiremba, or duties upon all purchases and sales; two cloths, for instance, per head of slave, or per elephant’s tusk; and that, as he expected to gain nothing by brokerage from me, he must receive as compensation, four coil-bracelets and six cotton cloths. These were at once forwarded to him. He then evidenced his ill-will in various ways, and his people were not slow in showing the dark side of their character. They threatened to flog Sayfu, the old Msawahili of Chole, for giving me hints concerning prices. The two surviving riding asses were repeatedly wounded with spears. Thieves broke into the outhouses by night, and stole all the clothes belonging to the Jemadar and to the bull-headed slave Mabruki. At first the widows of the late Kabeza, to whom the only cows in the district belonged, supplied us plentifully with milk; gradually the quantity shrank, whenever an opportunity offered it was “cut off;” and, at last, we could no longer afford the exorbitant price demanded. My companion having refused a cheese to Kannena, the dowager ladies, who owned the cows, when applied to for milk, threw away the vessel, and swore that by boiling what ought to be drunk unboiled, we were manifestly bewitching and killing their cattle. On one occasion, a young person related to Rusimba went to the huts of the Baloch, and, snatching up a fine cloth which she clasped to her bosom, defied them to recover it by force, and departed, declaring that it was a fine for bringing “whites” into the country. At first our heroes spoke of much slaughter likely to arise from such procedure, and with theatrical gesture, made “_rapière au vent_;” presently second-thoughts suggested how beautiful is peace, and thirdly, they begged so hard, that I was compelled to ransom for them the article purloined. I had unwittingly incurred the animosity of Kennena. On the day after his appearance in rich clothing he had entered unannounced with bare head, a spear or two in hand, and a bundle of wild-cats’ skins by way of placket; not being recognised, he was turned out, and the ejectment mortally offended his dignity. Still other travellers fared even worse than we did. Said bin Majid, who afterwards arrived at Ujiji to trade for ivory and slaves, had two followers wounded by the Wajiji, one openly speared in the bazaar, and the other at night by a thief who was detected digging through the wall of the store-hut.

After trade was disposed of, ensued a general Bakhshish. Nothing of the kind had been contemplated or prepared for at Zanzibar, but before leaving Unyanyembe, I had found it necessary to offer an inducement, and now the promise was to be fulfilled. Moreover, most of the party had behaved badly, and in these exceptional lands, bad behaviour always expects a reward. In the first place, says the Oriental, no man misconducts himself unless he has power to offend you and you are powerless to punish him. Secondly, by “petting” the offender, he may be bribed to conduct himself decently. On the other hand, the Eastern declares, by rewarding, praising, or promoting a man who has already satisfied you, you do him no good, and you may do him great harm. The boy Faraj, who had shamelessly deserted his master, Said bin Salim, was afterwards found at Unyanyembe, in Snay bin Amir’s house, handsomely dressed and treated like a guest; and his patron, forgetting all his stern resolves of condign punishment, met him with a peculiar kindness. I gave to the Baloch forty-five cloths, and to each slave, male and female, a pair. The gratification, however, proved somewhat like that man’s liberality who, according to the old satirist, presented fine apparel to those whom he wished to ruin. Our people recklessly spent all their Bakhshish in buying slaves, who generally deserted after a week, leaving the unhappy ex-proprietor tantalised by all the torments of ungratified acquisitiveness.

At first the cold damp climate of the Lake Regions did not agree with us; perhaps, too, the fish diet was over-rich and fat, and the abundance of vegetables led to little excesses. All energy seemed to have abandoned us. I lay for a fortnight upon the earth, too blind to read or write, except with long intervals, too weak to ride, and too ill to converse. My companion, who, when arriving at the Tanganyika Lake was almost as “groggy” upon his legs as I was, suffered from a painful ophthalmia, and from a curious distortion of face, which made him chew sideways, like a ruminant. Valentine was nearly blind; and he also had a wry mouth, by no means the properest for the process of mastication. Gaetano, who arrived at Ujiji on the 17th February, was half-starved, and his anxiety to make up for lost time brought on a severe attack of fever. The Baloch complained of influenzas and catarrhs: too lazy to build huts after occupying Kannena’s “Traveller’s Bungalow” for the usual week, they had been turned out in favour of fresh visitors, and their tempers were as sore as their lungs and throats.

But work remained undone; it was necessary to awake from this lethargy. Being determined to explore the northern extremity of the Tanganyika Lake, whence, according to several informants, issued a large river, flowing northwards, and seeing scanty chance of success, and every prospect of an accident, if compelled to voyage in the wretched canoes of the people, I at first resolved to despatch Said bin Salim across the water, and, by his intervention, to hire from an Arab merchant, Hamid bin Sulayyam, the only dow, or sailing-craft then in existence. But the little Arab evidently shirked the mission, and he shirked so artistically, that, after a few days, I released him, and directed my companion to do his best about hiring the dow, and stocking it with provisions for a month’s cruise.

Then arose the preliminary difficulties of the trip. Kannena and all his people, suspecting that my only object was economy in purchasing provisions, opposed the project; they demanded exorbitant sums, and often when bargained down and apparently satisfied, they started up and rushed away, declaring that they washed their hands of the business. At length, Lurinda, the neighbouring headman, was persuaded to supply a Nakhoda and a crew of twenty men. An Arab pays on these occasions, besides rations, ten per cent. upon merchandise; the white men were compelled to give four coil-bracelets and eight cloths for the canoe; besides which, the crew received, as hire, six coil-bracelets, and to each individual provisions for eight days, and twenty khete of large blue-glass beads, and small blue-porcelains were issued. After many delays, my companion set out on the 2nd of March, in the vilest weather, and spent the first stormy day near the embouchure of the Ruche River, within cannon shot of Kawele. This halt gave our persecutors time to change their minds once more, and again to forbid the journey. I was compelled to purchase their permission by sending to Kannena an equivalent of what had been paid for the canoe to Lurinda, viz. four coil-bracelets and eight cloths. Two days afterwards my companion, supplied with an ample outfit, and accompanied by two Baloch and his men--Gaetano and Bombay--crossed the bay of Ukaranga, and made his final departure for the islands.

During my twenty-seven days of solitude the time sped quickly; it was chiefly spent in eating and drinking, smoking and dozing. Awaking at 2 or 3 A.M., I lay anxiously expecting the grey light creeping through the door-chinks and making darkness visible; the glad tidings of its approach were announced by the cawing of the crows and the crowing of the village cocks. When the golden rays began to stream over the red earth, the torpid Valentine was called up; he brought with him a mess of Suji, or rice-flour boiled in water, with a little cold milk as a relish. Then entered Muhabanya, the “slavey” of the establishment, armed with a leafy branch to sweep the floor, and to slay the huge wasps that riddled the walls of the tenement. This done he lit the fire--the excessive damp rendered this precaution necessary--and sitting over it he bathed his face and hands--luxurious dog!--in the pungent smoke. Ensued visits of ceremony from Said bin Salim and the Jemadar, who sat, stared, and, somewhat disappointed at seeing no fresh symptoms of approaching dissolution, told me so with their faces, and went away. From 7 A.M. till 9 A.M., the breakfast hour, Valentine was applied to tailoring, gun-cleaning, and similar light work, over which he groaned and grumbled, whilst I settled down to diaries and vocabularies, a process interrupted by sundry pipes. Breakfast was again a mess of Suji and milk,--such civilised articles as tea, coffee, and sugar, had been unknown to me for months. Again the servants resumed their labour, and they worked, with the interval of two hours for sleep at noon, till 4 P.M. During this time the owner lay like a log upon his cot, smoking almost uninterruptedly, dreaming of things past, and visioning things present, and sometimes indulging himself in a few lines of reading and writing.

Dinner was an alternation of fish and fowl, game and butchers’ meat being rarely procurable at Ujiji. The fish were in two extremes, either insipid and soft, or so fat and coarse that a few mouthfuls sufficed; most of them resembled the species seen in the seas of Western India, and the eels and small shrimps recalled memories of Europe. The poultry, though inferior to that of Unyanyembe, was incomparably better than the lean stringy Indian chicken. The vegetables were various and plentiful, tomatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, sweet potatoes, yams, and several kinds of beans, especially a white harricot, which afforded many a _purée_; the only fruit procurable was the plantain, and the only drink--the toddy being a bad imitation of vinegar--was water.

As evening approached I made an attempt to sit under the broad eaves of the Tembe, and to enjoy the delicious spectacle of this virgin Nature, and the reveries to which it gave birth.

“A pleasing land of drowsihed it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye, And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, For ever flushing round a summer sky.”

It reminded me of the loveliest glimpses of the Mediterranean; there were the same “laughing tides,” pellucid sheets of dark blue water, borrowing their tints from the vinous shores beyond; the same purple light of youth upon the cheek of the earlier evening, the same bright sunsets, with their radiant vistas of crimson and gold opening like the portals of a world beyond the skies; the same short-lived grace and loveliness of the twilight; and, as night closed over the earth, the same cool flood of transparent moonbeam, pouring on the tufty heights and bathing their sides with the whiteness of virgin snow.

At 7 P.M., as the last flush faded from the occident, the lamp--a wick in a broken pot full of palm oil--was brought in; Said bin Salim appeared to give the news of the day,--how A. had abused B., and how C. had nearly been beaten by D., and a brief conversation led to the hour of sleep. A dreary, dismal day, you will exclaim, gentle reader; a day that

“lasts out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there.”

Yet it had its enjoyments. There were no post-offices, and this African Eden had other advantages, which, probably, I might vainly attempt to describe.

On the 29th of March the rattling of matchlocks announced my companion’s return. The Masika had done its worst upon him. I never saw a man so thoroughly moist and mildewed; he justified even the French phrase “wet to the bone.” His paraphernalia were in a similar state; his guns were grained with rust, and his fire-proof powder-magazine had admitted the monsoon-rain. I was sorely disappointed: he had done literally nothing. About ten days before his return I had been visited by Khamis bin Jumah, an Arab merchant, who, on the part of the proprietor of the dow, gave the gratifying message that we could have it when we pleased. I cannot explain where the mismanagement lay; it appears, however, that the wily “son of Sulayyam” detained the traveller simply for the purpose of obtaining from him gratis a little gunpowder. My companion had rested content with the promise that after three months the dow should be let to us for a sum of 500 dollars! and he had returned without boat or provisions to report ill success. The faces of Said bin Salim and the Jemadar, when they heard the period mentioned, were indeed a study. I consoled him and myself as I best could, and applied myself to supplying certain deficiencies as regards orthography and syntax in a diary which appeared in Blackwood, of September 1859, under the title “Journal of a Cruise in the Tanganyika Lake, Central Africa.” I must confess, however, my surprise at, amongst many other things, the vast horseshoe of lofty mountain placed by my companion in the map attached to that paper, near the very heart of Sir R. Murchison’s Depression. As this wholly hypothetical, or rather inventive feature,--I had seen the mountains growing upon paper under my companion’s hand, from a thin ridge of hill fringing the Tanganyika to the portentous dimensions given in Blackwood (Sept. 1859), and Dr. Petermann’s Mittheilungen, (No. 9, of 1859,)--wore a crescent form, my companion gravely published, with all the pomp of discovery, in the largest capitals, “This mountain range I consider to be THE TRUE MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON.” * * * Thus men _do_ geography! and thus discovery is stultified.

When my companion had somewhat recovered from his wetness, and from the effects of punching-in with a pen-knife a beetle which had visited his tympanum[2], I began seriously to seek some means of exploring the northern head of the Tanganyika. Hamid bin Sulayyam had informed his late guest that he had visited the place, where, although attacked by an armada of thirty or forty hostile canoes, he had felt the influence of a large river, which drains the water northwards: in fact, he told the “lie with circumstance.” By a curious coincidence, Sayfu, the Mswahili of Chole, declared that he also had sighted a stream issuing from the northern extremity of the lake--this was the “lie direct”--and he offered to accompany me as guide and interpreter. When we compared statements, we saw what was before us,--a prize for which wealth, health, and life, were to be risked.