Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa by David Livingstone (fun to read .txt) 📕

of putting a rod into a saturated solution of a certain salt, causing instant crystallization.

This, too, was the period when I often observed the greatest amount of cold.

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Since the explanation in page 109 [Chapter 5 Paragraph 5] was printed, I have been pleased to see the same explanation given by the popular astronomer and natural philosopher, M. Babinet, in reference to the climate of France. It is quoted from a letter of a correspondent of the `Times' in Paris: "In the normal meteorological state of France and Europe, the west wind, which is the counter-current of the trade-winds that constantly blow from the east under the tropics --

the west wind, I say, after having touched France and Europe by the western shores, re-descends by Marseilles and the Mediterranean, Constantinople and the Archipelago, Astrakan and the Caspian Sea, in order to merge again into the great circuit of the general winds, and be thus carried again into the equatorial current.

Whenever these masses of air, impregnated with humidity during their passage over the ocean, meet with an obstacle, such as a chain of mountains, for example, they slide up the acclivity, and, when they reach the crest, find themselves relieved from a portion of the column of air which pressed upon them.

Thus, dilating by reason of their elasticity, they cause a considerable degree of cold, and a precipitation of humidity in the form of fogs, clouds, rain, or snow. A similar effect occurs whatever be the obstacle they find in their way. Now this is what had gradually taken place before 1856. By some cause or other connected with the currents of the atmosphere, the warm current from the west had annually ascended northward, so that, instead of passing through France, it came from the Baltic and the north of Germany, thus momentarily disturbing the ordinary law of the temperatures of Europe.

But in 1856 a sudden change occurred. The western current again passed, as before, through the centre of France. It met with an obstacle in the air which had not yet found its usual outlet toward the west and south.

Hence a stoppage, a rising, a consequent dilation and fall of temperature, extraordinary rains and inundations. But, now that the natural state of things is restored, nothing appears to prognosticate the return of similar disasters. Were the western current found annually to move further north, we might again experience meteorological effects similar to those of 1856. Hence the regular seasons may be considered re-established in France for several years to come.

The important meteorological communications which the Imperial Observatory is daily establishing with the other countries of Europe, and the introduction of apparatus for measuring the velocity of the aerial currents and prevailing winds, will soon afford prognostics sufficiently certain to enable an enlightened government to provide in time against future evils."

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After crossing the Northern Lotembwa we met a party of the people of Kangenke, who had treated us kindly on our way to the north, and sent him a robe of striped calico, with an explanation of the reason for not returning through his village. We then went on to the Lake Dilolo.

It is a fine sheet of water, six or eight miles long, and one or two broad, and somewhat of a triangular shape. A branch proceeds from one of the angles, and flows into the Southern Lotembwa. Though laboring under fever, the sight of the blue waters, and the waves lashing the shore, had a most soothing influence on the mind, after so much of lifeless, flat, and gloomy forest. The heart yearned for the vivid impressions which are always created by the sight of the broad expanse of the grand old ocean.

That has life in it; but the flat uniformities over which we had roamed made me feel as if buried alive. We found Moene Dilolo (Lord of the Lake) a fat, jolly fellow, who lamented that when they had no strangers they had plenty of beer, and always none when they came. He gave us a handsome present of meal and putrid buffalo's flesh. Meat can not be too far gone for them, as it is used only in small quantities, as a sauce to their tasteless manioc.

They were at this time hunting antelopes, in order to send the skins as a tribute to Matiamvo. Great quantities of fish are caught in the lake; and numbers of young water-fowl are now found in the nests among the reeds.

Our progress had always been slow, and I found that our rate of traveling could only be five hours a day for five successive days. On the sixth, both men and oxen showed symptoms of knocking up. We never exceeded two and a half or three miles an hour in a straight line, though all were anxious to get home. The difference in the rate of traveling between ourselves and the slave-traders was our having a rather quicker step, a longer day's journey, and twenty traveling days a month instead of their ten. When one of my men became ill, but still could walk, others parted his luggage among them; yet we had often to stop one day a week, besides Sundays, simply for the sake of rest. The latitude of Lake Dilolo is 11d 32' 1" S., long. 22d 27' E.

JUNE 14TH. We reached the collection of straggling villages over which Katema rules, and were thankful to see old familiar faces again.

Shakatwala performed the part of a chief by bringing forth abundant supplies of food in his master's name. He informed us that Katema, too, was out hunting skins for Matiamvo.

In different parts of this country, we remarked that when old friends were inquired for, the reply was, "Ba hola" (They are getting better); or if the people of a village were inquired for, the answer was, "They are recovering," as if sickness was quite a common thing.

Indeed, many with whom we had made acquaintance in going north we now found were in their graves. On the 15th Katema came home from his hunting, having heard of our arrival. He desired me to rest myself and eat abundantly, for, being a great man, I must feel tired; and he took good care to give the means of doing so. All the people in these parts are exceedingly kind and liberal with their food, and Katema was not behindhand.

When he visited our encampment, I presented him with a cloak of red baize, ornamented with gold tinsel, which cost thirty shillings, according to the promise I had made in going to Londa; also a cotton robe, both large and small beads, an iron spoon, and a tin pannikin containing a quarter of a pound of powder. He seemed greatly pleased with the liberality shown, and assured me that the way was mine, and that no one should molest me in it if he could help it.

We were informed by Shakatwala that the chief never used any part of a present before making an offer of it to his mother, or the departed spirit to whom he prayed. Katema asked if I could not make a dress for him like the one I wore, so that he might appear as a white man when any stranger visited him. One of the councilors, imagining that he ought to second this by begging, Katema checked him by saying, "Whatever strangers give, be it little or much, I always receive it with thankfulness, and never trouble them for more." On departing, he mounted on the shoulders of his spokesman, as the most dignified mode of retiring. The spokesman being a slender man, and the chief six feet high, and stout in proportion, there would have been a break-down had he not been accustomed to it. We were very much pleased with Katema; and next day he presented us with a cow, that we might enjoy the abundant supplies of meal he had given with good animal food.

He then departed for the hunting-ground, after assuring me that the town and every thing in it were mine, and that his factotum, Shakatwala, would remain and attend to every want, and also conduct us to the Leeba.

On attempting to slaughter the cow Katema had given, we found the herd as wild as buffaloes; and one of my men having only wounded it, they fled many miles into the forest, and were with great difficulty brought back. Even the herdsman was afraid to go near them.

The majority of them were white, and they were all beautiful animals.

After hunting it for two days it was dispatched at last by another ball.

Here we saw a flock of jackdaws, a rare sight in Londa, busy with the grubs in the valley, which are eaten by the people too.

Leaving Katema's town on the 19th, and proceeding four miles to the eastward, we forded the southern branch of Lake Dilolo. We found it a mile and a quarter broad; and, as it flows into the Lotembwa, the lake would seem to be a drain of the surrounding flats, and to partake of the character of a fountain. The ford was waist-deep, and very difficult, from the masses of arum and rushes through which we waded. Going to the eastward about three miles, we came to the Southern Lotembwa itself, running in a valley two miles broad.

It is here eighty or ninety yards wide, and contains numerous islands covered with dense sylvan vegetation. In the rainy season the valley is flooded, and as the waters dry up great multitudes of fish are caught.

This happens very extensively over the country, and fishing-weirs are met with every where. A species of small fish, about the size of the minnow, is caught in bagfuls and dried in the sun. The taste is a pungent aromatic bitter, and it was partaken of freely by my people, although they had never met with it before. On many of the paths which had been flooded a nasty sort of slime of decayed vegetable matter is left behind, and much sickness prevails during the drying up of the water.

We did not find our friend Mozinkwa at his pleasant home on the Lokaloeje; his wife was dead, and he had removed elsewhere. He followed us some distance, but our reappearance seemed to stir up his sorrows.

We found the pontoon at the village in which we left it.

It had been carefully preserved, but a mouse had eaten a hole in it and rendered it useless.

We traversed the extended plain on the north bank of the Leeba, and crossed this river a little farther on at Kanyonke's village, which is about twenty miles west of the Peri hills, our former ford.

The first stage beyond the Leeba was at the rivulet Loamba, by the village of Chebende, nephew of Shinte; and next day we met Chebende himself returning from the funeral of Samoana, his father.

He was thin and haggard-looking compared to what he had been before, the probable effect of the orgies in which he had been engaged.

Pitsane and Mohorisi, having concocted the project of a Makololo village on the banks of the Leeba, as an