How I Found Livingstone by Henry M. Stanley (trending books to read .txt) đź“•
The same mode of commerce obtains here as in all Mohammedan countries--nay, the mode was in vogue long before Moses was born. The Arab never changes. He brought the custom of his forefathers with him when he came to live on this island. He is as much of an Arab here as at Muscat or Bagdad; wherever he goes to live he carries with him his harem, his religion, his long robe, his shirt, his slippers, and his dagger. If he penetrates Africa, not all the ridicule of the negroes can make him change his modes of life. Yet the land has not become Oriental; the Arab has not
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engaged to take the canoes back from Tongwe Cape to Ujiji Bunder—
came astern, and had a much taller flagstaff, on which was hoisted
the ever-beautiful Stars and Stripes. Its extreme height drew from
the Doctor—whose patriotism and loyalty had been excited—the remark
that he would cut down the tallest palmyra for his flagstaff, as it
was not fitting that the British flag should be so much lower than
that of the United States.
Our soldiers were not a whit behind us in lightheartedness at the
thought of going to Unyanyembe. They struck up the exhilarating
song of the Zanzibar boatmen, with the ecstatic chorus—
Kinan de re re Kitunga,
rowing away like madmen, until they were compelled to rest from
sheer exhaustion, while the perspiration exuded from the pores of
their bodies in streams. When refreshed, they bent back to their
oars, raising the song of the Mrima—
O mama, re de mi Ky,
which soon impelled them to an extravagant effort again, It was
by this series of ferocious spurts, racing, shouting, singing,
perspiring, laughing, groaning, and puffing, that our people vented
their joyous feelings, as the thought filled their minds that we
were homeward bound, and that by the route I had adopted between
us and Unyanyembe there was not the least danger.
We have given the Waha, the slip! ha, ha!
The Wavinza will trouble us no more! ho! ho!
Mionvu can get no more cloth from us! hy,by!
And Kiala will see us no more–never more! he, he!
they shouted with wild bursts of laughter, seconded by tremendous
and rapid strokes with their oars, which caused the stiff old
canoes to quiver from stem to stern.
Our party ashore seemed to partake of our excitement, and joined
in the wild refrain of the mad African song. We watched them
urging their steps forward to keep pace with us, as we rounded
the capes and points, and rowed across the bays whose margins were
sedge, and rush, and reed; the tiny and agile Kalulu, little
Bilali, and Majwara were seen racing the herds of goats, sheep,
and donkeys which belonged to the caravan, and the animals even
seemed to share the general joy.
Nature, also—proud, wild nature-0-with the lofty azure dome
upheaved into infinity—with her breadth and depth of vivid
greenness and enormous vastness on our left—with her immense
sheet of bright, glancing water—with her awful and intense
serenity—she partook of and added to our joy.
About 10 A.M. we arrived at Kirindo’s, an old chief, noted for his
singular kindness to Dr. Livingstone, while he bore animosity to
the Arabs. To the Arabs this was unaccountable—to the Doctor it
was plain: he had but spoken kind and sincere words, while all the
Arabs spoke to him as if he were not even a man, least of all a
chief.
Kirindo’s place is at the mouth of the Liuche, which is very wide;
the river oozes out through a forest of eschinomenae (pith tree).
This was a rendezvous agreed upon between shore and lake parties,
that the canoes might all cross to the other side, distant a mile
and a half. The mouth of the Liuche forms the Bay of Ukaranga,
so named because on the other side, whither we were about to cross
our party, was situated the village of Ukaranga, a few hundred yards
from the lake. All the baggage was taken out of the largest canoe,
and stowed snugly in the smaller one, and a few select oarsmen
having taken seats, pushed off with the Doctor on board, who was
to superintend pitching the encampment at Ukaranga; while I remained
behind to bind the fractious and ill-natured donkeys, and stow
them away in the bottom of the large canoe, that no danger of
upsetting might be incurred, and a consequent gobbling-up by
hungry crocodiles, which were all about us waiting their opportunity.
The flock of goats were then embarked, and as many of our people
as could be got in. About thirty still remained behind with myself,
for whom my canoe was to return.
We all arrived safe at Ukaranga, though we got dangerously near
a herd of hippopotami. The crossing of the wide mouth (the Liuche
being then in flood) was effected in about four hours.
The next day, in the same order as on our departure from Ujiji,
we pursued our way south, the lake party keeping as closely as
possible to the shore, yet, when feasible, wind and weather
permitting, we struck off boldly across the numerous small bays
which indent the shores of the Tanganika. The shores were
beautifully green, the effect of the late rains; the waters of
the lake were a faithful reflex of the blue firmament above.
The hippopotami were plentiful. Those noticed on this day were
coloured with reddish rings round the base of their ears and on the
neck. One monster, coming up rather late, was surprised by the
canoe making full for him, and in great fright took a tremendous
dive which showed the whole length of his body. Half way between
the mouth of the Malagarazi and that of the Liuche we saw a camp
on shore—that of Mohammed bin Gharib, a Msawahili, who figured
often in Livingstone’s verbal narrative to me of his adventures
and travels as one of the kindest and best of the Moslems in
Central Africa. He appeared to me a kindly disposed man, with
a face seldom seen, having the stamp of an unusual characteristic
on it—that of sincerity.
The vegetation of the shores as we proceeded was truly tropical,
each curve revealed new beauties. With the soft chalky stone, of
which most of the cliffs and bluffs are made, seen as we neared
the mouth of the Malagarazi, the surf has played strange freaks.
We arrived at the mouth of the Malagarazi about P.M., having rowed
eighteen miles from Ukaranga. The shore party arrived, very much
fatigued, about 5 P.M.
The next day was employed in crossing the caravan across the broad
mouth of the Malagarazi to our camp, a couple of miles north of the
river. This is a river which a civilised community would find of
immense advantage for shortening the distance between the Tanganika
and the coast. Nearly one hundred miles might be performed by
this river, which is deep enough at all seasons to allow navigation
as far as Kiala, in Uvinza, whence a straight road might be easily
made to Unyanyembe. Missionaries also might reap the same benefit
from it for conversion-tours to Uvinza, Uhha, and Ugala. Pursuing
our way on the 30th, and rounding the picturesque capes of
Kagongo, Mviga and Kivoe, we came, after about three hours’
rowing, in sight of villages at the mouth of the swift and turbid
Rugufu. Here we had again to transport the caravan ever the
crocodile-infested mouth of the river.
On the morning of the 31st we sent a canoe with men to search for
food in the two or three villages that were visible on the other
side. Four doti purchased just sufficient for four days for our
caravan of forty-eight persons. We then got under weigh, having
informed the kirangozi that Urimba was our destination, and bidding
him keep as closely as possible to the lake shore, where it was
practicable, but if not, to make the best he could of it. From the
debouchement of the Rugufu, the headwaters of which we had crossed
on our random route to Ujiji, to Urimba, a distance of six days by
water, there are no villages, and consequently no food. The shore
party, however, before leaving Ujiji, had eight days’ rations,
and on this morning four days’, distributed to each person,
and therefore was in no danger of starvation should the mountain
headlands, now unfolding, abrupt and steep, one after another,
prevent them from communicating with us. It must be understood
that such a journey as this had never been attempted before by
any Arab or Msawahili, and every step taken was in sheer
ignorance of where the road would lead the men ashore. Rounding
Kivoe’s steep promontory, whose bearded ridge and rugged slope,
wooded down to the water’s edge, whose exquisite coves and quiet
recesses, might well have evoked a poetical effusion to one so
inclined, we dared the chopping waves of Kivoe’s bay, and stood
direct for the next cape, Mizohazy, behind which, owing to wind
and wave, we were compelled to halt for the night.
After Mizohazy is the bold cape of Kabogo—not the terrible Kabogo
around whose name mystery has been woven by the superstitious
natives—not the Kabogo whose sullen thunder and awful roar were
heard when crossing the Rugufu on our flight from the Wahha–but
a point in Ukaranga, on whose hard and uninviting rocks many a
canoe has been wrecked. We passed close to its forbidding walls,
thankful for the calm of the Tanganika. Near Kabogo are some very
fine mvule trees, well adapted for canoe building, and there are no
loud-mouthed natives about to haggle for the privilege of cutting
them.
Along the water’s edge, and about three feet above it, was observed
very clearly on the smooth face of the rocky slopes of Kabogo
the high-water mark of the lake. This went to show that the
Tanganika, during the rainy season, rises about three feet above
its dry season level, and that, during the latter season,
evaporation reduces it to its normal level. The number of rivers
which we passed on this journey enabled me to observe whether, as
I was told, there was any current setting north. It was apparent
to me that, while the southwest, south, or south-east winds blew,
the brown flood of the rivers swept north; but it happened that,
while passing, once or twice, the mouths of rivers, after a puff
from the northwest and north, that the muddied waters were seen
southward of the mouths; from which I conclude that there is no
current in the Tanganika except such as is caused by the fickle
wind.
Finding a snug nook of a bay at a place called Sigunga, we put in
for lunch. An island at the mouth of the bay suggested to our
minds that this was a beautiful spot for a mission station; the
grandly sloping hills in the background, with an undulating shelf
of land well-wooded between them and the bay, added to the
attractions of such a spot. The island, capable of containing
quite a large village, and perfectly defensible, might, for
prudence’ sake, contain the mission and its congregation; the
landlocked bay would protect their fishery and trade vessels;
more than sustain a hundred times the number of the population
of the island. Wood for building their canoes and houses is
close at hand; the neighbouring country would afford game in
abundance; and the docile and civil people of Ukaranga but
wait religious shepherds.
From beautiful Sigunga, after a brief halt, we set off, and,
after three hours, arrived at the mouth of the River Uwelasia.
Hippopotami and crocodiles being numerous; we amused ourselves by
shooting at them, having also a hope of attracting the attention
of our shore party, the sound of whose guns we had not heard
since leaving the Rugufu.
On the 3rd of January we left Uwelasia, and, passing by Cape
Herembe, were in the bay of Tongwe. This bay is about twenty-five miles broad, and stretches from Cape Herembe to Cape Tongwe.
Finding themselves so near their destination, Urimba being
but six miles from Herembe Point, the men of both boats bent
themselves to their oars, and, with shouts, songs, and laughter,
encouraged each other to do their utmost. The flags of the two
great Anglo-Saxon nations rippled and played in the soft breeze,
sometimes drawing near caressingly together,
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