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
Read free book «How I Found Livingstone by Henry M. Stanley (trending books to read .txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Henry M. Stanley
- Performer: -
Read book online «How I Found Livingstone by Henry M. Stanley (trending books to read .txt) 📕». Author - Henry M. Stanley
colossus in such close vicinage. Recovering from my astonishment,
I thought it prudent to retire also—especially, with a pea-shooter
loaded with treacherous sawdust cartridges in my hand. As I
looked behind, I saw him waving his trunk, which I understood to
mean, “Good-bye, young fellow; it is lucky for you you went in
time, for I was going to pound you to a jelly.”
As I was congratulating myself, a wasp darted fiercely at me and
planted its sting in my neck, and for that afternoon my
anticipated pleasures were dispelled. Arriving at camp I found
the men grumbling; their provisions were ended, and there was no
prospect for three days, at least, of procuring any. With the
improvidence usual with the gluttons, they had eaten their rations
of grain, all their store of zebra and dried buffalo meat, and were
now crying out that they were famished.
The tracks of animals were numerous, but it being the rainy season
the game was scattered everywhere; whereas, had we travelled
during the dry season through these forests our larders might have
been supplied fresh each day.
Some time about 6 P.M., as the Doctor and I were taking our tea
outside the tent, a herd of elephants, twelve in number, passed
about 800 yards off. Our fundi, Asmani and Mabruki Kisesa, were
immediately despatched in pursuit. I would have gone myself with
the heavy Reilly rifle, only I was too much fatigued. We soon
heard their guns firing, and hoped they were successful, as a
plentiful supply of meat might then have been procured, while we
ourselves would have secured one of the elephant’s feet for a nice
delicate roast; but within an hour they returned unsuccessful,
having only drawn blood, some of which they exhibited to us on a
leaf.
It requires a very good rifle to kill an African elephant. A No.
8 bore with a Frazer’s shell, planted in the temple, I believe,
would drop an elephant each shot. Faulkner makes some
extraordinary statements, about walking up in front of an elephant
and planting a bullet in his forehead, killing him instantly. The
tale, however, is so incredible that I would prefer not to believe
it; especially when he states that the imprint of the muzzle of
his rifle was on the elephant’s trunk. African travellers—
especially those with a taste for the chase—are too fond of
relating that which borders on the incredible for ordinary men to
believe them. Such stories must be taken with a large grain
of salt, for the sake of the amusement they afford to readers at
home. In future, whenever I hear a man state how he broke the back
of an antelope at 600 yards, I shall incline to believe a cipher
had been added by a slip of the pen, or attribute it to a
typographical error, for this is almost an impossible feat in an
African forest. It may be done once, but it could never be done
twice running. An antelope makes a very small target at 600 yards
distance; but, then, all these stories belong by right divine to
the chasseur who travels to Africa for the sake only of sport.
On the 13th we continued our march across several ridges; and the
series of ascents and descents revealed to us valleys and mountains
never before explored streams; rushing northward, swollen by the
rains, and grand primeval forests, in whose twilight shade no white
man ever walked before.
On the 14th the same scenes were witnessed—an unbroken series
of longitudinal ridges, parallel one with another and with Lake
Tanganika. Eastward the faces of these ridges present abrupt
scarps and terraces, rising from deep valleys, while the western
declivities have gradual slopes. These are the peculiar features
of Ukawendi, the eastern watershed of the Tanganika.
In one of these valleys on this day we came across a colony of
reddish-bearded monkeys, whose howls, or bellowing, rang amongst
the cliffs as they discovered the caravan. I was not able to
approach them, for they scrambled up trees and barked their
defiance at me, then bounded to the ground as I still persisted
in advancing; and they would have soon drawn me in pursuit if I
had not suddenly remembered that my absence was halting the
Expedition.
About noon we sighted our Magdala—the grand towering mount whose
upright frowning mass had attracted our eyes, as it lifted itself
from above the plain in all its grandeur, when we were hurrying
along the great ridge of Rusawa towards the “Crocodile” River.
We recognised the old, mystic beauty of the tree-clad plain around
it. Then it was bleached, and a filmy haze covered it lovingly;
now it was vivid greenness. Every vegetable, plant, herb and
tree, had sprung into quick life—the effect of the rains. Rivers
that ran not in those hot summer days now fumed and rushed
impetuously between thick belts of mighty timber, brawling
hoarsely in the glades. We crossed many of these streams,
all of which are feeders of the Rugufu.
Beautiful, bewitching Ukawendi! By what shall I gauge the
loveliness of the wild, free, luxuriant, spontaneous nature
within its boundaries? By anything in Europe? No. By anything
in Asia? Where? India, perhaps. Yes; or say Mingrelia and
Imeritia. For there we have foaming rivers; we have picturesque
hillocks; we have bold hills, ambitious mountains, and
broad forests, with lofty solemn rows of trees, with clean
straight stems, through which you can see far, lengthy vistas,
as you see here. Only in Ukawendi you can almost behold the growth
of vegetation; the earth is so generous, nature so kind and
loving, that without entertaining any aspiration for a residence,
or a wish to breathe the baleful atmosphere longer than is
absolutely necessary, one feels insensibly drawn towards it, as
the thought creeps into his mind, that though all is foul beneath
the captivating, glamorous beauty of the land, the foulness might
be removed by civilized people, and the whole region made as
healthy as it is productive. Even while staggering under the
pressure of the awful sickness, with mind getting more and more
embittered, brain sometimes reeling with the shock of the
constantly recurring fevers—though I knew how the malaria, rising
out of that very fairness, was slowly undermining my constitution,
and insidiously sapping the powers of mind and body—I regarded
the alluring face of the land with a fatuous love, and felt a
certain sadness steal over me as each day I was withdrawing myself
from it, and felt disposed to quarrel with the fate that seemed
to eject me out of Ukawendi.
On the ninth day of our march from the shores of the Tanganika we
again perceived our “Magdala Mount,” rising like a dark cloud to
the northeast, by which I knew that we were approaching Imrera,
and that our Icarian attempt to cross the uninhabited jungle of
Ukawendi would soon be crowned with success. Against the
collective counsel of the guides, and hypothetical suggestions of
the tired and hungry souls of our Expedition, I persisted in being
guided only by the compass and my chart. The guides strenuously
strove to induce me to alter my course and strike in a southwest
direction, which, had I listened to them, would have undoubtedly
taken me to South-western Ukonongo, or Northeastern Ufipa.
The veteran and experienced soldiers asked mournfully if I were
determined to kill them with famine, as the road I should have
taken was northeast; but I preferred putting my trust in the
compass. No sun shone upon us as we threaded our way through
the primeval forest, by clumps of jungle, across streams, up
steep ridges, and down into deep valleys. A thick haze covered
the forests; rain often pelted us; the firmament was an
unfathomable depth of grey vapour. The Doctor had perfect
confidence in me, and I held on my way.
As soon as we arrived at our camp the men scattered themselves
through the forest to search for food. A grove of singwe trees was
found close by. Mushrooms grew in abundance, and these sufficed to
appease the gnawing hunger from which the people suffered. Had it
not been such rainy weather I should have been enabled to procure
game for the camp; but the fatigue which I suffered, and the fever
which enervated me, utterly prevented me from moving out of the camp
after we once came to a halt. The fear of lions, which were
numerous in our vicinity, whose terrible roaring was heard by day
and by night, daunted the hunters so much, that though I offered
five doti of cloth for every animal brought to camp, none dared
penetrate the gloomy glades, or awesome belts of timber, outside
the friendly defence of the camp.
The morning of the tenth day I assured the people that we were
close to food; cheered the most amiable of them with promise of
abundant provender, and hushed the most truculent knaves with a
warning not to tempt my patience too much, lest we came to angry
blows; and then struck away east by north through the forest,
with the almost exhausted Expedition dragging itself weakly and
painfully behind me. It was a most desperate position certainly,
and I pitied the poor people far more than they pitied themselves;
and though I fumed and stormed in their presence when they
were disposed to lie down and give up, never was a man further
from doing them injury. I was too proud of them; but under the
circumstances it was dangerous—nay, suicidal—to appear doubtful
or dubious of the road. The mere fact that I still held on my way
according to the Doctor’s little pearly monitor (the compass) had
a grand moral effect on them, and though they demurred in
plaintive terms and with pinched faces, they followed my
footsteps with a trustfulness which quite affected me.
For long miles we trudged over smooth sloping sward, with a vision
of forest and park-land beauty on our right and left, and in front
of us such as is rarely seen. At a pace that soon left the main
body of the Expedition far behind, I strode on with a few gallant
fellows, who, despite their heavy loads, kept pace with me. After
a couple of hours we were ascending the easy slope of a ridge,
which promised to decide in a few minutes the truth or the
inaccuracy of my chart. Presently we arrived at the eastern
edge of the ridge, and about five miles away, and 1,000 feet below
the high plateau on which we stood, we distinguished the valley of
Imrera!
By noon we were in our old camp. The natives gathered round,
bringing supplies of food, and to congratulate us upon having gone
to Ujiji and returned. But it was long before the last member of
the Expedition arrived. The Doctor’s feet were very sore,
bleeding from the weary march. His shoes were in a very worn-out
state, and he had so cut and slashed them with a knife to ease his
blistered feet, that any man of our force would have refused them
as a gift, no matter how ambitious he might be to encase his feet
a la Wasungu.
Asmani, the guide, was very much taken aback when he discovered
that the tiny compass knew the way better than he did, and he
declared it as his solemn opinion that it could not lie. He
suffered much in reputation from having contested the palm with
the “little thing,” and ever afterwards his boasted knowledge
of the country was considerably doubted.
After halting a day to recruit ourselves, we continued our journey
on the 18th January, 1872, towards Unyanyembe. A few miles beyond
Imrera, Asmani lost the road again, and I was obliged to show it to
him, by
Comments (0)