Part 33

MONDAY, APRIL 14.—We have been in three different towns today: Dar-es-Salaam, Zanzibar, and Tanga. We left Dar-es-Salaam at daylight, and stopped at Zanzibar for the mails at about 10 A. M., remaining an hour. Several of our friends came on board, but none of the passengers went ashore. Dozens of Indian merchants came out to the ship, and worked rapidly, as they expected the whistle to blow any moment. The passengers also shopped rapidly, having heard that goods might be had at low prices during this brief shopping period. Hundreds of purchases, mostly of useless trifles, were made. Most travelers are as particular to buy presents for all their friends as they are to remember them at Christmas-time. When the whistle finally blew, there was a scramble of merchants and their assistants to get into the little boats, and one man was compelled to jump and swim for it. Many of the passengers ordered clothing of the Zanzibar tailors, on Saturday, which was delivered today. A pants and coat of white duck, so generally worn here, cost $2.50 for the best quality, and as low as $1.75 a suit for lighter material. The ladies also ordered skirts, and the charge was $2.25.... At 11 A. M. we left Zanzibar, and six hours later were at Tanga, also in German East Africa. We have made very little progress in the last three days, our time being devoted to loading freight. But I think we took on most of all at Tanga. All through the night the steam winches were going, and they did not cease work until after breakfast. One gang of men slept while the other worked. The forward winches are not many feet from my cabin window, and all through the night there was a tremendous racket, but, greatly to my surprise, I slept fairly well.... The usual uniformed Germans came on board at Tanga, and visited our officers. At Dar-es-Salaam and Tanga every vacant berth on the ship was filled with a German, and several are sleeping in the music-room. Five of the new passengers are babies, and several of the others are Kaffir nurses. One of these nurses is a man with whiskers, and certainly six feet high. To see him caring for a baby is very amusing. Still another new passenger is a Kaffir girl, a nurse, but she is so scantily dressed that she has been refused the run of the upper decks.... A young German girl left the ship at Tanga, and we hear she is engaged to the ship doctor. Their love affair has been the subject of much gossip, and when the girl left for shore in a small boat she wept bitterly. Bets of two to one are freely offered that the engagement will not result in marriage.... There is general relief because a young bull, which has been on board ever since we left Beira, departed on a scow at Tanga, after being lifted over the sides by the steam winches. The bull seemed to understand that he was about to get rid of his long confinement in a narrow box, and behaved very decently while being unloaded.... The trip up the east coast of Africa is distinguished because of its many stops, but this makes it a long trip. We are becoming tired, and did not go ashore at Tanga.

TUESDAY, APRIL 15.—There must be a tremendous amount of cargo on this boat. We ceased loading at Tanga at 9 o’clock this morning, and at 5 P. M. began again at Mombasa. At 5:15 we went down the stairway at the side of the ship, and a fight began among the boatmen over our patronage. The negro crew of row-boat No. 5 won, and we went ashore, stopping on the way at the “Adolph Woerner,” lying in the harbor. Landing, we walked a block to the street-railway, which is one of the queer affairs called a “trolley” over here, although there is no trolley. The street-railway runs from the port, called Killindini, to Mombasa, a mile and a half away, and only handcars, pushed by native men, are operated. There is a double track, with branches to every important section of Mombasa. Every citizen of importance owns one or more handcars, called “trolleys,” and these are lifted off the track when not in use, and you see them standing everywhere about the town. The fare up-town by trolley is not five cents, as is the case in the United States, where the people are mercilessly robbed by the corporations; the fare is forty-eight cents per passenger, after 6 P. M., and twenty-four cents during the day. Three men pushed our trolley, and, when they came to a piece of down-hill track, they all rode. We had employed a black boy as guide at the landing, at thirty-six cents an hour, and when we struck an up-hill piece of track, the guide also helped push. Thus with four men we got along very well, and were soon in the heart of old Mombasa, said to have been besieged oftener than any other town in the world; which is a pretty good story, if true, for there is fairly accurate authority for the statement that Jerusalem has been besieged and taken fifty times.... The trolley system of Mombasa stops at the postoffice; we left our car there, and walked into the old part of the town. In Zanzibar the streets were crooked, but in the old section of Mombasa the buildings seem to have been built without any order whatever. There are no streets; only spaces between the buildings, and these are very narrow. The inhabitants of the section through which we passed at about 6 P. M. are mainly people from India, and thousands of children were playing about the narrow passages, or in the quaint shops, which were almost as small as shops set up by children at play. It was almost dark, and the usual illumination in the average shop was a lantern. The shopkeepers wore turbans, and all sorts of strange clothing, and there was a touch of every country except the country I am most familiar with. I could not have named one-tenth of the articles displayed in the shops, and in one place a phonograph was playing Hindu airs as strange to me as the old town of Mombasa. We went to a market where hundreds of people were quarreling over food prices, and where the people seemed to come out of foreign books rather than out of real life. Occasionally we came across a wholesale house, and in the offices of these we saw Hindus working at typewriters. Drinking-shops abounded, and out of these came drunken men who leered at us impudently and curiously. There were a good many native hotels with guests sitting idly about. Mothers ran everywhere hunting their children, and the streets, not much wider than our sidewalks, were crowded with jabbering, gesticulating men and women who seemed to us to be rather ill-natured.... We passed an old fort which looked as large as Edinburgh castle, in Scotland; Mombasa is a big town, and prosperous, and its institutions are on a large scale. The guide said there was a still more interesting fort fifteen minutes away, and we went there by trolley. The fort is situated on the seashore, and only a ruin, but it looked very interesting in the moonlight. The old cannon used in defense of the place, I don’t know how many centuries ago, were still looking grimly out of ruined portholes, and just below the portholes the waves were tumbling noisily, as if anxious to climb up the rocks and complete the ruin of the place. Near the old fort was a lighthouse, flashing its signals out to sea, and directly in front of the lighthouse was the wreck of a steamship. The tide was out, and we went on board for a few minutes. There is probably nothing which so completely depicts ruin and desolation as a wrecked ship, lying on its side, and stripped of everything of value by vandals and the sea. We also climbed up to the lighthouse tower, and the keeper showed us the mechanism. It was the first lighthouse I have ever inspected at close quarters; usually they are located on rocks hard to get to.... When we went back to town, neither English nor German money would satisfy the trolley-boys, so I went into the shop of a money-changer, and paid twelve cents for enough Indian rupees to satisfy my creditors. The three trolley-boys who had taken us to the old fort took us to the landing, at a breakneck speed. One of the three rode all the time, and they relieved each other at the work of pushing. When the grade was down hill, they all rode. Down one long hill we must have traveled at the rate of thirty miles an hour. When we left the trolley, we were seized upon by a boatman who had wandered from the landing to get the first chance at ship passengers returning from town.

“Promise me, master,” he said; “me No. 67.” We promised, and followed him to the landing. Other boatmen constantly joined our procession, and we were soon in the center of a howling, fighting mob, but we had promised No. 67, and were faithful to him. At first, he was one to a hundred, but as we neared the landing, his three companions came to his assistance, and we were finally able to go aboard No. 67. I sat in the stern, and handled the tiller-ropes, and the ride out to the ship was cool and enjoyable.... Arriving at the ship, we found it surrounded with freight barges, and loading in furious progress. Eight steam winches were at work, four forward and four aft, and hundreds of screaming natives were swarming over the barges and down in the hold where the freight was being stored. A man who lives in this part of the world, and is familiar with it, says that when the natives are talking, they are at work; when they are quiet, he stirs them up with a stick, for he knows they are loafing. The loading on the forward deck was not ten feet from my cabin, and the quartermaster assured me it would go on all night. At 10: 30 there was a short rest, and the native workers swarmed up from below, and over from the barges, to be fed. The crew cook gave them pans of either rice or corn-meal mush, I could not tell which, and the men sat around in groups, and ate it with their fingers. The deck passengers, who have comfortable quarters over the hatchway when we are at sea, scatter everywhere when the hatches are uncovered, and loading is in progress.... I was much interested in a negro man who had two wives. The women had little babies of about the same age, and the husband seemed as fond of one wife as of the other. The husband was a young man, perhaps twenty-five, and his wives were still younger. The black babies were much better behaved than the white ones in the first-cabin. Since the arrival of the five white babies, the “Burgermeister” has been turned into a nursery. Some mothers are disposed to be apologetic when their children annoy others, but the mothers on the “Burgermeister” look at the other passengers as though they are a mean lot for not assisting in taking care of the babies. When a baby cries in my presence, I somehow feel as though I made it cry. I learned the various processes of caring for babies in bringing up my own, but had I not learned the art long ago, I might learn it all on board the “Burgermeister,” from intimate association with it. All the babies are German, except one Portuguese.... I was more interested in Mombasa than in Zanzibar. It is larger, and has better public buildings of every kind. The general impression is that Mombasa has a bright future, while Zanzibar seems to be as large as it can ever hope to be.... The known history of Mombasa began a thousand years ago, but many say this section was settled, and was the scene of fierce wars, long before the Christian era. It has been Portuguese territory and Arab territory, and they quarreled and fought over it constantly until the British took possession, and told both contending factions to behave themselves. If the old forts in Mombasa could talk, they might tell tales of bloodshed and cruelty that would startle modern mankind.... Mombasa is the port of entry for the vast territory of Uganda, a name which calls up memories of Livingstone, Speke, Grant, and Stanley. The railroad beginning here runs to Victoria Lake. It was this railroad on which Roosevelt made his trip into the interior, riding on the cowcatcher much of the way, and being in constant sight of big game. I have seen no wild game except one pheasant, and a good many baboons, but it is all around us, a few miles in the interior.... Imaginative writers draw beautiful word-pictures of this country and its future, but the facts are that it is a country beset with many pests and difficulties. I have talked with men from many sections of it, but they do not tell stories of wonderful prosperity. On the contrary, they tell stories of hot weather, of natural difficulties to be overcome, and of hard pioneering. Whoever lives here must not expect health; he must “go home” as frequently as possible, to recuperate, as do our soldiers in the Philippines. There are as many undeveloped “natural resources” in the Philippine Islands as in Africa; the greatest difference is that the African natives are better workers than the Filipinos, and not so much attention is paid to their liberties as we are paying to the liberties of the Filipinos.... This section is known locally as “British East.” Some say British East Africa is a better country than Cape Colony or Natal, or the Transvaal, or the Orange Free State, but the general evidence is that it is not.... The “Burgermeister” has a wonderful cargo in its hold. This morning I saw a lot of ivory come on board, and asked an official what else we carried to the markets of the world. We have rubber, cloves, Colombo roots, ginelda wood for tanning, chrome ore, a great lot of copper ore, gum copal, copra, cocoanut fiber, carianda seeds, great quantities of bullock and goat hides, ostrich feathers, wool, raw cotton, coffee, tobacco, cotton seed, cotton-seed oil in barrels, etc. A great deal more freight was offered than the ship could accommodate, and much was left in the barges after the “Burgermeister’s” hold was full. This freight comes from the interior, and was brought to the coast by rail, by river, and by bullock team; it does not represent the product of a section, but of a continent.... We were told on coming on board last night that an American and his wife had been added to the passenger list during our absence. I looked the man over, and at once offered to bet two to one that he was not an American. He wore a green hat, with the brim turned down all the way ’round. No American ever wore a green hat, or wore it with the brim turned down in that fashion. Besides, he smokes a pipe all the time, and carries a bag of tobacco attached to his belt; an English custom.... We lost nearly all of our friends at Mombasa. Many of the passengers are new, and we must start all over in becoming acquainted. Nine out of ten are Germans; there is an English line of boats plying on the East Coast, and the English prefer their own ships. Whoever travels out here will notice friction between the English and Germans.... In spite of every cabin on the ship being full, and in spite of the long delays in loading freight, the chief steward feeds us well; it is not too much to say that the food is as good as may be had on the best ships of the fine Atlantic fleet. While in port, we have so many visitors that we are crowded, but at sea, we settle down, and do very well.... There are several cases of the plague at Mombasa, but not much attention is paid to them. The plague is always a pest here, and occasionally it gets a big start; not long ago, Zanzibar was a closed port for six months, and visitors were compelled to remain there until the quarantine was raised. The Zanzibar hotel is a very bad one, and a good many of the visitors hired houses and cooks, and lived very comfortably.... Nearly all the natives of Mombasa are Mohammedans, and when we passed through the town just after darkness set in, it seems to me I saw thousands of men praying in the mosques. I have never seen a Mohammedan woman praying; with people of that faith, it seems to be the men who are religious. Among Protestants, you will find ten religious women to one religious man.... The old fort at Mombasa was once besieged thirty-three months, and when the garrison finally surrendered the victors found only eleven men and three women to butcher.... The Uganda State Railway begins at Mombasa, and runs to Lake Victoria, source of the river Nile. On the way is Niarobi, probably the most promising town in British East Africa. It was to Niarobi Sammy Marks was going, to open a new theatre. Nearly all the way to the lake, big game is constantly in sight from the railway carriages. Lake Victoria is the second largest in the world, only Lake Superior being larger. A trip of five days is provided on Victoria Lake, in large and comfortable ships, which are occasionally out of sight of land. It is in this section where ten thousand natives died within a year from the terrible sleeping sickness, which is so fatal that the government is now forcing the blacks to leave the infected district.... On the railroad to Victoria Lake is Tsavo station, where a pair of man-eating lions devoured thirty-three natives during the construction work. Colonel Patterson wrote a book about “The Man Eaters of Tsavo,” and its fame is worldwide. The terror of the native workmen on the railway finally became so great that work was suspended for a time. Then one of the engineers fixed up an iron cage, and spent five nights in it. The second night he shot one of the lions, another the third night, and the last one the fifth night. A good many hunters in Africa laugh at the Tsavo story as greatly exaggerated; indeed, I have heard it openly stated here that the Lion Lie is one of the greatest jokes in Africa. Every hunter, the African people say, takes home a fierce lion lie, and the world has come to believe thousands of big stories about these animals that are ridiculous.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16.—At noon today we left Mombasa for Aden; no more stops for five or six days. Loading at Mombasa continued without interruption for eighteen hours, and when the colored laborers went away on barges, they cheered because of the completion of their long task.... Outside the harbor, we encountered the first motion of the voyage, and several of the passengers went to bed. The motion was not great, but it was the first we have had. We had been wondering what the “Burgermeister” would do in case of heavy weather, and found her specialty is a pitch. The pitch is far more agreeable than the roll.... We had been told by the captain to expect the hottest weather of the voyage between Mombasa and Aden, but found the weather cooler at Mombasa than at any other stopping-place, and at sea there were actually spots on deck that were too cool.... At Mombasa we took on an entirely new lot of deck passengers, and lost a number who greatly interested me. One was a negro boy of fourteen, whom a woman passenger was taking to Nairobi as a servant. She met him on the streets of Mozambique, and, being attracted by his fair promises, took him on board. The boy claimed to be able to speak five languages in addition to “Kitchen Kaffir.” This is a language which all Kaffirs understand, and it is the native language usually learned by whites. I have a notion that a half-savage boy of fourteen speaking five languages, speaks some of them very imperfectly.... The captain, or some one for him, has suppressed the six babies on board. Nearly all of them have male nurses, and these negro men, who are traveling on deck-passage tickets, almost monopolized the first-cabin deck. They had cribs and fences in which they confined their charges, and getting about was almost impossible. There was so much grumbling that the babies and nurses have been sent to the deck below, and we see no more of them, although we can hear them. The halls of the baby deck are encumbered with all sorts of nursing-bottles and other apparatus of that nature, and we are compelled to wade through it when we go to our rooms.... The lower class of Hindus are the filthiest people in the world, judging from what I see of them on the lower deck, where a good many of them are located as passengers. I cannot avoid seeing all their domestic arrangements, and their indifference to dirt is amazing. I notice that a good many of the negroes in Africa have adopted the Hindu religion, having learned it from the Indians, who come to the East Coast in great swarms. Religion naturally appeals to the negro, and he adopts any form of it which attracts his fancy. But the great bulk of the negroes on the East Coast are Mohammedans, having learned that doctrine from the Arabs who sold them into slavery. You would think the negroes would detest the Mohammedan religion and the Arabs, but they do not. Many of the natives who are unmistakably Africans, claim to be Arabs, and this evening I saw six Mohammedan negroes saying their prayers at the same time. They observed me watching them, and took particular pains to “show off.” One of them had a string of beads of the kind used by the Catholics, and I am certain that he had picked up this addition to his Mohammedan religion from the Catholics. All religions become badly mixed by their different forms appealing to other sects.... The orchestra played a concert on deck this evening, for the first time in several days; we have been so busy loading cargo that there was no time to think of music.... I find that we took on an American passenger at Mombasa; A. B. Hepburn, of the Chase National Bank, of New York, and Comptroller of Currency under President Harrison. He has been hunting in the Niarobi section, and told me he was the only one in his outfit who did not get the fever.