The Last Journals of David Livingstone (Annotated & Illustrated) E-Book

David Livingstone

• Herausgeber: Reading Masterpieces
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

David Livingstone was born in 1813. He was a Scottish Presbyterian medical missionary. He was known for his exploration of central Africa. He was the first European to see Queen Victoria Falls and is famous for his meeting with H M Stanley that gave rise to the phrase "Dr Livingstone I presume." As one of the most popular heroes in Victorian England, Livingstone "rags to riches" story", his daring exploration, and his strong anti-slavery stance made him the source of legend. His fame as an explorer helped drive the obsession to find the source of the Nile. His disappearance and death in Africa led to the founding of several African Christian missions.

Leseprobe

THE LAST JOURNALS

OF

DAVID LIVINGSTONE

IN CENTRAL AFRICA, FROM 1865 TO HIS DEATH.

CONTINUED BY A NARRATIVE OF HIS LAST MOMENTS AND SUFFERINGS, OBTAINED FROM

HIS FAITHFUL SERVANTS CHUMA AND SUSI,

BY

HORACE WALLER

IN TWO VOLUMES

VOL. I

1874

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Introduction

In the midst of the universal sorrow caused by the intelligence that Dr. Livingstone had lost his life at the furthest point to which he had penetrated in his search for the true sources of the Nile, a faint hope was indulged that some of his journals might survive the disaster: this hope, I rejoice to say, has been realized beyond the most sanguine expectations.

It is due, in the first place, to his native attendants, whose faithfulness has placed his last writings at our disposal, and also to the reader, before he launches forth upon a series of travels and scientific geographical records of the most extraordinary character, to say that in the following narrative of seven years' continuous work and new discovery no break whatever occurs.

We have not to deplore the loss, by accident or carelessness, of a single entry, from the time of Livingstone's departure from Zanzibar in the beginning of 1866 to the day when his note-book dropped from his hand in the village of Ilala at the end of April, 1873.

I trust it will not be uninteresting if I preface the history with a few words on the nature of these journals and writings as they have come to hand from Central Africa.

It will be remembered that when Mr. Stanley returned to England in 1872, Dr. Livingstone entrusted to his care a very large Letts' diary, sealed up and consigned to the safe keeping of his daughter, Miss Agnes Livingstone. Upon the confirmation of the worst news, this book was examined and found to contain a considerable portion of the notes which her father made during his travels previous to the time of Mr. Stanley's meeting him.

The Doctor's custom was always to have metallic note-books in use, in which the day's jottings were recorded. When time and opportunity served, the larger volume was posted up with scrupulous care.

It seems, however, that in the last three or four years of his life this excellent rule had to give way to the toils of travel and the exhaustion of most distressing illnesses. Whilst in the Manyuema country he ran out of note-books, ink, and pencils, and had to resort to shifts which at first made it a very debateable point whether the most diligent attempt at deciphering would suceeed after all. Such pocket-books as remained at this period of his travels were utilized to the last inch of paper. In some of them we find lunar observations, the names of rivers, and the heights of hills advancing towards the middle from one end, whilst from the other the itinerary grows day by day, interspersed with map routes of the march, botanical notes, and carefully made drawings. But in the mean time the middle portion of the book was filling up with calculations, private memoranda, words intended for vocabularies, and extracts from books, whilst here and there the stain of a pressed flower causes indistinctness; yet the thread of the narrative runs throughout. Noting but his invariable habit of constantly repeating the month and year obviates hopeless confusion. Nor is this all; for pocket-books gave out at last, and old newspapers, yellow with African damp, were sewn together, and his notes were written across the type with a substitute for ink made from the juice of a tree. To Miss Livingstone and to the Rev. C.A. Alington I am very much indebted for help in the laborious task of deciphering this portion of the Doctor's journals. Their knowledge of his handwriting, their perseverance, coupled with good eyes and a strong magnifying-glass, at last made their task a complete success.

In comparing this great mass of material with the journal brought home by Mr. Stanley, one finds that a great deal of most interesting matter can be added. It would seem that in the hurry of writing and copying despatches previous to his companion's departure, the Doctor rapidly entered up as much from his note-books as time and space permitted.

Most fortunately, he still carried the greater part of these original notes till the time of his death, so that they were forthcoming when his effects were subsequently saved.

This brings us to the second instalment of the journals, for we have thus acknowledged the first to have reached us on Mr. Stanley's return.

When the battered tin travelling-case, which was with Livingstone to the last, was opened at the Foreign Office in the spring of this year, not only were these valuable papers disclosed which I have mentioned, but it was found also that Livingstone had kept a copious journal during his stay at Unyanyembé in some copy-books, and that when his stock of note-books was replenished a daily record of his subsequent travels had been made.

It was with fear and trembling that one looked to see whether all had been saved or only part, but with satisfaction and thankfulness I have subsequently discovered that his men preserved every single line, besides his maps, which now come to light for the first time.

Thus much on the material of the diaries: it remains to say a few words on the Map which accompanies these journals. It has been compiled from Dr. Livingstone's original drawings and note-books, with the corrections and additions he made from time to time as the work of exploration progressed, and the details of physical geography became clearer to him. The compiler, Mr. John Bolton1, implicitly following the original outline of the drawing as far as possible, has honestly endeavoured to give such a rendering of the entire work, as the Doctor would have done had he lived to return home, and superintend the construction; and I take this opportunity of expressing my sincere gratification that Mr. Bolton's rare technical skill, scientific knowledge, and unwearying labour have been available for the purpose.

Amongst almost the last words that Livingstone wrote, I find an unfinished letter to myself, in which he gives me very clear and explicit directions concerning the geographical notes he had previously sent home, and I am but carrying out the sacred duty which is attached to a last wish when I call attention to the fact, that he particularly desired in this letter that no positions gathered from his observations for latitude and longitude, nor for the levels of the Lakes, &c., should be considered correct till Sir Thomas Maclear had examined them. The position of Casembe's town, and of a point near Pambetté at the S.E., and of Lake Liemba (Tanganyika), have been computed and corrected by Sir T. Maclear and Dr. Mann. The observations for latitude were taken at short intervals, and where it has been possible to test them they have been found very correct, but I repeat that until the imprimatur of his old friend at the Cape of Good Hope stands over the whole of Livingstone's work, the map must be accepted as open to further corrections.

The journey from Kabwabwata to Mparru has been inserted entirely from notes, as the traveller was too ill to mark the route: this is the only instance in all his wanderings where he failed to give some indication on his map of the nature of the ground over which he passed. The journey front Mikindany Bay to Lake Nyassa has also been laid down from his journal and latitudes in consequence of the section of this part of his route (which he left at Ujiji) not having arrived in England at this date.2 It will be observed that the outline of Lake Nyassa differs from that on any published map: it has been drawn from the original exploratory survey of its southern shores made by Dr. Livingstone in 1861-3. For some reason this original plan was not adhered to by a former draughtsman, but the Lake has here been restored to a more accurate bearing and position.

How often shall we see in the pages of this concluding chapter of his life, that unwavering determination which was pre-eminently the great characteristic of David Livingstone!

Naturally endowed with unusual endurance, able to concentrate faculties of no ordinary kind upon whatever he took in hand, and with a dread of exaggeration which at times almost militated against the importance of some of his greatest discoveries, it may be doubted if ever Geographer went forth strengthened with so much true power. Let us add to these a sincere trust that slavery, the "great open sore of the world," as he called it, might under God's good guidance receive healing at his hands; a fervent hope that others would follow him after he had removed those difficulties which are comprised in a profound ignorance of the physical features of a new country, and we have the marching orders of him who left us in August 1865 never to return alive.

Privileged to enjoy his near personal friendship for a considerable period in Africa, and also at home, it has been easy to trace—more especially from correspondence with him of late years—that Livingstone wanted just some such gigantic problem as that which he attacked at the last to measure his strength against: that he finally overrated and overtaxed it I think all must admit.

He had not sufficiently allowed for an old wound which his constitution received whilst battling with dysentery and fever, on his celebrated journey across Africa, and this finally sapped his vital powers, and, through the irritation of exhaustion, insidiously clouded much of his happiness.

Many of his old friends were filled with anxiety when they found that he intended to continue the investigation of the Nile sources, for the letters sent home by Mr. Stanley raised the liveliest apprehensions, which, alas! soon proved themselves well grounded.

The reader must be warned that, however versed in books of African travel he may be, the very novelty of his situation amongst these pages will render him liable perhaps to a danger which a timely word may avert. Truly it may be said he has an embarras de richesses! To follow an explorer who by his individual exertions has filled up a great space in the map of Africa, who has not only been the first to set foot on the shores of vast inland seas, but who, with the simple appliances of his bodily stature for a sounding pole and his stalwart stride for a measuring tape, lays down new rivers by the hundreds, is a task calculated to stagger him. It may be provoking to find Livingstone busily engaged in bargaining for a canoe upon the shores of Bangweolo, much as he would have secured a boat on his own native Clyde; but it was not in his nature to be subject to those paroxysms in which travellers too often indite their discoveries and descriptions.

At the same time these journals will be found to contain innumerable notes on the habits of animals, birds, and fishes, many of them probably new species, and on phenomena in every direction which the keen eye searched out as the great traveller moved amongst some of the grandest scenes of this beautiful world: it may be doubted if ever eye so keen was backed by so much perseverance to shield it from a mere superficial habit of noticing. Let his adventures speak for themselves.

Amongst the greatest facts recorded here the Geographer will perceive that the Doctor has placed it beyond doubt that Lake Nyassa belongs to a totally distinct system of waters to that which holds Lake Tanganyika, and the rivers running north and west. He was too sagacious to venture the surmise that Tanganyika has a subterranean outlet without having duly weighed the probabilities in the scale with his elaborate observations: the idea gathers force when we remember that in the case of limestone cliffs, water so often succeeds in breaking bounds by boring through the solid rock. No more interesting problem is left to solve, and we shall yet learn whether, through the caverns of Western Kabogo, this Lake adds its waters to the vast northerly flow of rivers we now read of for the first time, and which are undoubtedly amongst the largest in the world.

I cannot close these remarks without stating how much obliged I am to Mr. James Young, F.R.S., of Kelly, for having ensured the presence of the Doctor's men, Chuma and Susi. Ever ready to serve his old friend Livingstone, he took care that they should be at my elbow so long as I required them to help me amidst the pile of MSS. and maps. Their knowledge of the countries they travelled in is most remarkable, and from constantly aiding their master by putting questions to the natives respecting the course of rivers, &c., I found them actual geographers of no mean attainments. In one instance, when in doubt concerning a particular watershed, to my surprise Susi returned a few hours afterwards with a plan of the whole system of rivers in the region under examination, and I found his sketch tally well with the Doctor's map. Known to me previously for years on the Zambesi and Shiré it was a pleasure to have them with me for four months. Amongst other good services they have aided the artist by reproducing the exact facsimile of the hut in which Dr. Livingstone expired, besides making models of the "kitanda" on which he was carried, and of the village in which his body lay for fourteen days.

I need not add what ready and valuable assistance I have derived from the Doctor's old companion Dr. Kirk wherever I have found it necessary to apply to him; some of the illustrations are more particularly owing to his kindness.

It only remains to say that it has been thought advisable to retain all the strictly scientific matter found in Dr. Livingstone's journals for future publication. When one sees that a register of the daily rainfall was kept throughout, that the temperature was continually recorded, and that barometrical and hypsometrical observations were made with unflagging thoroughness of purpose year in and year out, it is obvious that an accumulated mass of information remains for the meteorologist to deal with separately, which alone must engross many months of labour.

A constant sense of great responsibility has been mine throughout this task, for one cannot doubt that much of the future welfare of distant tribes and races depends upon Livingstone obtaining through these records a distinct hearing for their woes, their misery, and above all for their willingness to welcome men drawn towards them by motives like his.

At the same time memory and affection have not failed to bring back vividly the man, the traveller, and the friend. May that which he has said in his journals suffer neither loss of interest nor depth of meaning at the compiler's hands.

HORACE WALLER.TWYWELL RECTORY, THRAPSTON,NORTHAMPTONSHIRE.Nov. 2, 1874.

Chapter 1

Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the Sultan. Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. Penguin and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies. The Makondé. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings.

ZANZIBAR, 28th January, 1866.—After a passage of twenty-three days from Bombay we arrived at this island in the Thule, which was one of Captain Sherard Osborne's late Chinese fleet, and now a present from the Bombay Government to the Sultan of Zanzibar. I was honoured with the commission to make the formal presentation, and this was intended by H.E. the Governor-in-Council to show in how much estimation I was held, and thereby induce the Sultan to forward my enterprise. The letter to his Highness was a commendatory epistle in my favour, for which consideration on the part of Sir Bartle Frere I feel deeply grateful. It runs as follows:—

TO HIS HIGHNESS SEJUEL MAJID, SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR.

(Copy.)

"YOUR HIGHNESS,—I trust that this will find you in the enjoyment of health and happiness.

"I have requested my friend, Dr. David Livingstone, who is already personally well and favourably known to your Highness, to convey to you the assurance of the continual friendship and goodwill of Her Majesty's Government in India.

"Your Highness is already aware of the benevolent objects of Dr. Livingstone's life and labours, and I feel assured that your Highness will continue to him the favour and protection which you have already shown to him on former occasions, and that your Highness will direct every aid to be given him within your Highness's dominions which may tend to further the philanthropic designs to which he has devoted himself, and which, as your Highness is aware, are viewed with the warmest interest by Her Majesty's Government both in India and England.

"I trust your Highness will favour me with continued accounts of your good health and welfare.

"I remain, your Highness's sincere friend,

(Signed) "H.B.E. FRERE.

"BOMBAY CASTLE, 2nd January, 1866."

When we arrived Dr. Seward, the Acting Consul, was absent at the Seychelles on account of serious failure of health: Mr. Schultz, however, was representing him, but he too was at the time away. Dr. Seward was expected back daily, and he did arrive on the 31st. I requested a private interview with the Sultan, and on the following day (29th) called and told him the nature of my commission to his Highness. He was very gracious, and seemed pleased with the gift, as well he might, for the Thule is fitted up in the most gorgeous manner. We asked a few days to put her in perfect order, and this being the Ramadân, or fasting month, he was all the more willing to defer a visit to the vessel.

Dr. Seward arranged to have an audience with the Sultan, to carry out his instructions, which were to present me in a formal manner; Captain Bradshaw of the Wasp, with Captain Leatham of the Vigilant, and Bishop Tozer, were to accompany us in full dress, but the Sultan had a toothache and gumboil, and could not receive us; he, however, placed one of his houses at my disposal, and appointed a man who speaks English to furnish board for my men and me, and also for Captain Brebner, of the Thule, and his men.

6th February, 1866.—The Sultan being still unable to come, partly on account of toothache and partly on account of Ramadân, he sent his commodore, Captain Abdullah, to receive the Thule. When the English flag was hauled down in the Thule, it went up to the mainmast of the Iskander Shah, and was saluted by twenty-one guns; then the Wasp saluted the Arab flag with an equal number, which honour being duly acknowledged by a second royal salute from the Iskander Shah, Captain Abdullah's frigate, the ceremony ended.

Livingstone's House, Zanzibar.

Next day, the 7th, we were received by the Sultan, and through his interpreter, I told him that his friend, the Governor of Bombay, had lately visited the South Mahratta Princes, and had pressed on them the necessity of education; the world was moving on, and those who neglected to acquire knowledge would soon find that power slipped through their fingers, and that the Bombay Government, in presenting his Highness with a portion of steam power, showed its desire to impart one of the greatest improvements of modern times, not desiring to monopolize power, but hoping to lift up others with themselves, and I wished him to live a hundred years and enjoy all happiness. The idea was borrowed partly from Sir Bartle Frere's addresses, because I thought it would have more weight if he heard a little from that source than if it emanated from myself. He was very anxious that Captain Brebner and his men, in returning to India, should take a passage from him in the Nadir Shah, one of his men-of-war, and though he had already placed his things aboard the Vigilant, to proceed to Seychelles, and thence to Bombay, we persuaded Captain Brebner to accept his Highness's hospitality. He had evidently set his heart on sending them back with suitable honours, and an hour after consent was given to go by the Nadir Shah, he signed an order for the money to fit her out.

11th February, 1866.—One of the foremost subjects that naturally occupied my mind here was the sad loss of the Baron van der Decken, on the River Juba, or Aljib. The first intimation of the unfortunate termination of his explorations was the appearance of Lieutenant von Schich at this place, who had left without knowing whether his leader were dead or alive, but an attack had been made on the encampment which had been planned after the steamer struck the rocks and filled, and two of the Europeans were killed. The attacking party came from the direction in which the Baron and Dr. Link went, and three men of note in it were slain. Von Schich went back from Zanzibar to Brava to ascertain the fate of the Baron, and meanwhile several native sailors from Zanzibar had been allowed to escape from the scene of confusion to Brava.

18th February, 1866.—All the Europeans went to pay visits of congratulation to his Highness the Sultan upon the conclusion of the Ramadân, when sweetmeats were placed before us. He desired me to thank the Governor of Bombay for his magnificent gift, and to state that although he would like to have me always with him, yet he would show me the same favour in Africa which he had done here: he added that the Thule was at my service to take me to the Rovuma whenever I wished to leave. I replied that nothing had been wanting on his part; he had done more than I expected, and I was sure that his Excellency the Governor would be delighted to hear that the vessel promoted his health and prosperity; nothing would delight him more than this. He said that he meant to go out in her on Wednesday next (20th): Bishop Tozer, Captain Fraser, Dr. Steere, and all the English were present. The sepoys came in and did obeisance; and I pointed out the Nassick lads as those who had been rescued from slavery, educated, and sent back to their own country by the Governor. Surely he must see that some people in the world act from other than selfish motives.

In the afternoon Sheikh Sulieman, his secretary, came with a letter for the Governor, to be conveyed by Lieutenant Brebner, I.N., in the Nadir Shah, which is to sail to-morrow. He offered money to the lieutenant, but this could not be heard of for a moment.

The translation of the letter is as follows, and is an answer to that which I brought.

TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF BOMBAY.

[After compliments.]

"... The end of my desire is to know ever that your Excellency's health is good. As for me—your friend—I am very well.

"Your honoured letter borne by Dr. Livingstone duly reached me, and all that you said about him I understood.

"I will show him respect, give him honour, and help him in all his affairs; and that I have already done this, I trust he will tell you.

"I hope you will let me rest in your heart, and that you will send me many letters.

"If you need anything I shall be glad, and will give it.

"Your sincere friend,

"MAJID BIN SAID.

"Dated 2nd Shaul, 1282 (18th February, 1866)."

2nd March, 1866.—A northern dhow came in with slaves; when this was reported to the Sultan he ordered it to be burned, and we saw this done from the window of the Consulate; but he has very little power over Northern Arabs. He has shown a little vigour of late. He wished to raise a revenue by a charge of 10 per cent. on all articles brought into town for sale, but this is clearly contrary to treaty, which provides that no monopoly shall be permitted, and no dues save that of 5 per cent. import duty. The French Consul bullies him: indeed the French system of dealing with the natives is well expressed by that word; no wonder they cannot gain influence among them: the greatest power they exercise is by lending their flag to slaving dhows, so that it covers that nefarious traffic.

The stench arising from a mile and a half or two square miles of exposed sea beach, which is the general depository of the filth of the town, is quite horrible. At night it is so gross or crass one might cut out a slice and manure a garden with it: it might be called Stinkibar rather than Zanzibar. No one can long enjoy good health here.

On visiting the slave-market I found about 300 slaves exposed for sale, the greater part of whom came from Lake Nyassa and the Shiré River; I am so familiar with the peculiar faces and markings or tattooings, that I expect them to recognize me. Indeed one woman said that she had heard of our passing up Lake Nyassa in a boat, but she did not see me: others came from Chipéta, S.W. of the Lake. All who have grown up seem ashamed at being hawked about for sale. The teeth are examined, the cloth lifted up to examine the lower limbs, and a stick is thrown for the slave to bring, and thus exhibit his paces. Some are dragged through the crowd by the hand, and the price called out incessantly: most of the purchasers were Northern Arabs and Persians. This is the period when the Sultan's people may not carry slaves coastwise; but they simply cannot, for the wind is against them. Many of the dhows leave for Madagascar, and thence come back to complete their cargoes.

The Arabs are said to treat their slaves kindly, and this also may be said of native masters; the reason is, master and slave partake of the general indolence, but the lot of the slave does not improve with the general progress in civilization. While no great disparity of rank exists, his energies are little tasked, but when society advances, wants multiply; and to supply these the slave's lot grows harder. The distance between master and man increases as the lust of gain is developed, hence we can hope for no improvement in the slave's condition, unless the master returns to or remains in barbarism.

6th March, 1866.—Rains have begun now that the sun is overhead. We expect the Penguin daily to come from Johanna, and take us to the Rovuma. It is an unwholesome place; six of my men have fever; few retain health long, and considering the lowness of the island, and the absence of sanitary regulations in the town, it is not to be wondered at. The Sultan has little power, being only the successor to the captain of the horde of Arabs who came down and overran the island and maritime coasts of the adjacent continent. He is called only Said or Syed, never Sultan; and they can boast of choosing a new one if he does not suit them. Some coins were found in digging here which have Cufic inscriptions, and are about 900 years old. The island is low; the highest parts may not be more than 150 feet above the sea; it is of a coral formation, with sandstone conglomerate. Most of the plants are African, but clove-trees, mangoes, and cocoa-nut groves give a luxuriant South Sea Island look to the whole scenery.

We visited an old man to-day, the richest in Zanzibar, who is to give me letters to his friends at Tanganyika, and I am trying to get a depôt of goods for provisions formed there, so that when I reach it I may not be destitute.

18th March, 1866.—I have arranged with Koorje, a Banian, who farms the custom-house revenue here, to send a supply of beads, cloth, flour, tea, coffee, and sugar, to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika. The Arab there, with whom one of Koorje's people will remain in charge of the goods, is called Thani bin Suelim.

Yesterday we went to take leave of the Sultan, and to thank him for all his kindness to me and my men, which has indeed been very great. He offered me men to go with me, and another letter if I wished it. He looks very ill.

I have received very great kindness during my stay from Dr. and Mrs. Seward. They have done everything for me in their power: may God Almighty return it all abundantly into their bosoms, in the way that He best can. Dr. Seward's views of the policy pursued here I have no doubt are the right ones; in fact, the only ones which can be looked back to with satisfaction, or that have probability of success among a race of Pariah Arabs.

The Penguin came a few days ago, and Lieutenant Garforth in command agrees to take me down to the Rovuma River, and land me there. I have a dhow to take my animals: six camels, three buffaloes, and a calf, two mules, and four donkeys. I have thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna men, nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two Wayaus, Wekatani and Chuma.3

[It may be well to point out that several of these men had previously been employed by Dr. Livingstone on the Zambesi and Shiré; thus Musa, the Johanna man, was a sailor on the Lady Nyassa, whilst Susi and Amoda were engaged at Shupanga to cut wood for the Pioneer. The two Waiyau lads, Wakatani and Chuma, were liberated from the slavers by the Doctor and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861, and lived for three years with the Mission party at Chibisa's before they were engaged by Livingstone. The Nassick lads were entire strangers, and were trained in India.]

19th March, 1866.—We start this morning at 10 A.M. I trust that the Most High may prosper me in this work, granting me influence in the eyes of the heathen, and helping me to make my intercourse beneficial to them.

22nd March, 1866.—We reached Rovuma Bay to-day, and anchored about two miles from the mouth of the river, in five fathoms. I went up the left bank to see if the gullies which formerly ran into the bay had altered, so as to allow camels to cross them: they seemed to have become shallower. There was no wind for the dhow, and as for the man-of-war towing her, it was out of the question. On the 23rd the cutter did try to tow the dhow, but without success, as a strong tide runs constantly out of the river at this season. A squall came up from the S.E., which would have taken the dhow in, but the master was on board the Penguin, and said he had no large sail. I got him off to his vessel, but the wind died away before we could reach the mouth of the river.

24th March, 1866.—I went to the dhow, and there being no wind I left orders with the captain to go up the right bank should a breeze arise. Mr. Fane, midshipman, accompanied me up the left bank above, to see if we could lead the camels along in the water. Near the point where the river first makes a little bend to the north, we landed and found three formidable gullies, and jungle so thick with bush, date-palms, twining bamboo, and hooked thorns, that one could scarcely get along. Further inland it was sticky mud, thickly planted over with mangrove roots and gullies in whose soft banks one sank over the ankles. No camels could have moved, and men with extreme difficulty might struggle through; but we never could have made an available road. We came to a she-hippopotamus lying in a ditch, which did not cover her; Mr. Fane fired into her head, and she was so upset that she nearly fell backward in plunging up the opposite bank: her calf was killed, and was like sucking-pig, though in appearance as large as a full-grown sow.

We now saw that the dhow had a good breeze, and she came up along the right bank and grounded at least a mile from the spot where the mangroves ceased. The hills, about two hundred feet high, begin about two or three miles above that, and they looked invitingly green and cool. My companion and I went from the dhow inland, to see if the mangroves gave way, to a more walkable country, but the swamp covered over thickly with mangroves only became worse the farther we receded from the river. The whole is flooded at high tides, and had we landed all the men we should have been laid up with fever ere we could have attained the higher land, which on the right bank bounds the line of vision, and the first part of which lies so near. I thought I had better land on the sand belt on the left of Rovuma Bay, and then explore and get information from the natives, none of whom had as yet come near us, so I ordered the dhow to come down to the spot next day, and went on board the Penguin. Lieutenant Garforth was excessively kind, and though this is his best time for cruising in the North, he most patiently agreed to wait and help me to land.

24th March, 1866.—During the night it occurred to me that we should be in a mess if after exploration and information from the natives we could find no path, and when I mentioned this, Lieutenant Garforth suggested that we should proceed to Kilwa, so at 5 A.M. I went up to the dhow with Mr. Fane, and told the captain that we were going there. He was loud in his protestations against this, and strongly recommended the port of Mikindany, as quite near to Rovuma, Nyassa, and the country I wished to visit, besides being a good landing-place, and the finest port on the coast. Thither we went, and on the same evening landed all our animals in Mikindany bay, which lies only twenty-five miles N. of Rovuma. The Penguin then left.

The Rovuma is quite altered from what it was when first we visited it. It is probable that the freshets form banks inside the mouth, which are washed out into the deep bay, and this periodical formation probably has prevented the Arabs from using the Rovuma as a port of shipment. It is not likely that Mr. May4 would have made a mistake if the middle were as shoal as now: he found soundings of three fathoms or more.

Dhow used for Transport of Dr. Livingstone's Camels.

25th March, 1866.—I hired a house for four dollars a month and landed all our goods from the dhow. The bay gives off a narrow channel, about 500 yards wide and 200 yards long, the middle is deep, but the sides are coral reefs and shoal: the deep part seems about 100 yards wide. Outside in the Bay of Mikindany there is no anchorage except on the edge of the reef where the Penguin got seven fathoms, but further in it was only two fathoms. The inner bay is called Pemba, not Pimlea, as erroneously printed in the charts of Owen. It is deep and quite sheltered; another of a similar round form lies somewhat to the south: this bay may be two miles square.

The cattle are all very much the worse for being knocked about in the dhow. We began to prepare saddles of a very strong tree called Ntibwé, which is also used for making the hooked spear with which hippopotami are killed—the hook is very strong and tough; I applied also for twenty carriers and a Banian engaged to get them as soon as possible. The people have no cattle here, they are half-caste Arabs mostly, and quite civil to us.

26th March, 1866.—A few of the Nassick boys have the slave spirit pretty strongly; it goes deepest in those who have the darkest skins. Two Gallah men are the most intelligent and hardworking among them; some look on work with indifference when others are the actors.

Now that I am on the point of starting on another trip into Africa I feel quite exhilarated: when one travels with the specific object in view of ameliorating the condition of the natives every act becomes ennobled.

Whether exchanging the customary civilities, or arriving at a village, accepting a night's lodging, purchasing food for the party, asking for information, or answering polite African enquiries as to our objects in travelling, we begin to spread a knowledge of that people by whose agency their land will yet become enlightened and freed from the slave-trade.

The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a wild unexplored country is very great. When on lands of a couple of thousand feet elevation, brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is clear, the step is firm, and a day's exertion always makes the evening's repose thoroughly enjoyable.

We have usually the stimulus of remote chances of danger either from beasts or men. Our sympathies are drawn out towards our humble hardy companions by a community of interests, and, it may be, of perils, which make us all friends. Nothing but the most pitiable puerility would lead any manly heart to make their inferiority a theme for self-exaltation; however, that is often done, as if with the vague idea that we can, by magnifying their deficiencies, demonstrate our immaculate perfections.

The effect of travel on a man whose heart is in the right place is that the mind is made more self-reliant: it becomes more confident of its own resources—there is greater presence of mind. The body is soon well-knit; the muscles of the limbs grow as hard as a board, and seem to have no fat; the countenance is bronzed, and there is no dyspepsia. Africa is a most wonderful country for appetite, and it is only when one gloats over marrow bones or elephant's feet that indigestion is possible. No doubt much toil is involved, and fatigue of which travellers in the more temperate climes can form but a faint conception; but the sweat of one's brow is no longer a curse when one works for God: it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a blessing. No one can truly appreciate the charm of repose unless he has undergone severe exertion.

27th March, 1866.—The point of land which on the north side of the entrance to the harbour narrows it to about 300 yards is alone called Pemba; the other parts have different names. Looking northwards from the point, the first hundred yards has ninety square houses of wattled daub; a ruin (a mosque) has been built of lime and coral. The whole point is coral, and the soil is red, and covered over with dense tropical vegetation, in which the baobab is conspicuous. Dhows at present come in with ease by the easterly wind which blows in the evening, and leave next morning, the land wind taking them out.

While the camels and other animals are getting over their fatigues and bad bruises, we are making camels' saddles, and repairing those of the mules and buffaloes. Oysters abound on all the rocks and on the trees over which the tide flows: they are small, but much relished by the people.

The Arabs here are a wretched lot physically—thin, washed-out creatures—many with bleared eyes.

29-30th March, 1866.—- This harbour has somewhat the shape of a bent bow or the spade on a playing-card, the shaft of the arrow being the entrance in; the passage is very deep, but not more than 100 yards wide, and it goes in nearly S.W.; inside it is deep and quite secure, and protected from all winds. The lands westward rise at once to about 200 feet, and John, a hill, is the landmark by which it is best known in coming along the coast—so say the Arabs. The people have no cattle, but say there are no tsetse flies: they have not been long here, i.e. under the present system; but a ruin on the northern peninsula or face of the entrance, built of stone and lime—Arab-fashion, and others on the north-west, show that the place has been known and used of old. The adjacent country has large game at different water pools, and as the whole country is somewhat elevated it probably is healthy. There is very little mangrove, but another enclosed piece of water to the south of this probably has more. The language of the people here is Swaheli; they trade a little in gum-copal and Orchilla weed. An agent of the Zanzibar custom-house presides over the customs, which are very small, and a jemidar acknowledging the Sultan is the chief authority; but the people are little superior to the natives whom they have displaced. The jemidar has been very civil to me, and gives me two guides to go on to Adondé, but no carriers can be hired. Water is found in wells in the coral rock which underlies the whole place.

4th April, 1866.—When about to start from Pemba, at the entrance to the other side of the bay one of our buffaloes gored a donkey so badly that he had to be shot: we cut off the tips of the offender's horns, on the principle of "locking the stable-door when the steed is stolen," and marched. We came to level spots devoid of vegetation, and hard on the surface, but a deposit of water below allowed the camels to sink up to their bodies through the crust. Hauling them out, we got along to the jemidar's house, which is built of coral and lime. Hamesh was profuse in his professions of desire to serve, but gave a shabby hut which let in rain and wind. I slept one night in it, and it was unbearable, so I asked the jemidar to allow me to sleep in his court-room, where many of the sepoys were: he consented, but when I went refused; then, being an excitable, nervous Arab, he took fright, mustered all his men, amounting to about fifteen, with matchlocks; ran off, saying he was going to kill a lion; came back, shook hands nervously with me, vowing it was a man who would not obey him, "it was not you."

Our goods were all out in the street, bound on the pack-saddles, so at night we took the ordinary precaution of setting a guard. This excited our dignitary, and after dark all his men were again mustered with matches lighted. I took no notice of him, and after he had spent a good deal of talk, which we could hear, he called Musa and asked what I meant. The explanations of Musa had the effect of sending him to bed, and in the morning, when I learned how much I had most unintentionally disturbed him, I told him that I was sorry, but it did not occur to me to tell him about an ordinary precaution against thieves. He thought he had given me a crushing reply when he said with vehemence, "But there are no thieves here." I did not know till afterwards that he and others had done me an ill turn in saying that no carriers could be hired from the independent tribes adjacent. They are low-coast Arabs, three-quarters African, and, as usual, possess the bad without the good qualities of both parents. Many of them came and begged brandy, and laughed when they remarked that they could drink it in secret but not openly; they have not, however, introduced it as an article of trade, as we Christians have done on the West Coast.

6th April, 1866.—We made a short march round to the south-west side of the Lake, and spent the night at a village in that direction. There are six villages dotted round the inner harbour, and the population may amount to 250 or 300 souls—coast Arabs and their slaves; the southern portion of the harbour is deep, from ten to fourteen fathoms, but the north-western part is shoal and rocky. Very little is done in the way of trade; some sorghum, sem-sem seed, gum-copal, and orchilla weed, constitute the commerce of the port: I saw two Banian traders settled here.

7th April, 1866.—Went about south from Kindany with a Somalie guide, named Ben Ali or Bon Ali, a good-looking obliging man, who was to get twenty dollars to take us up to Ngomano. Our path lay in a valley, with well-wooded heights on each side, but the grass towered over our heads, and gave the sensation of smothering, whilst the sun beat down on our heads very fiercely, and there was not a breath of air stirring. Not understanding camels, I had to trust to the sepoys who overloaded them, and before we had accomplished our march of about seven miles they were knocked up.

8th April, 1866.—We spent the Sunday at a village called Nyañgedi. Here on the evening of the 7th April our buffaloes and camels were first bitten by the tsetse fly.5 We had passed through some pieces of dense jungle which, though they offered no obstruction to foot-passengers, but rather an agreeable shade, had to be cut for the tall camels, and fortunately we found the Makondé of this village glad to engage themselves by the day either as woodcutters or carriers. We had left many things with the jemidar from an idea that no carriers could be procured. I lightened the camels, and had a party of woodcutters to heighten and widen the path in the dense jungle into which we now penetrated. Every now and then we emerged on open spaces, where the Makondé have cleared gardens for sorghum, maize, and cassava. The people were very much more taken up with the camels and buffaloes than with me. They are all independent of each other, and no paramount chief exists. Their foreheads may be called compact, narrow, and rather low; the alae nasi expanded laterally; lips full, not excessively thick; limbs and body well formed; hands and feet small; colour dark and light-brown; height middle size, and bearing independent.

10th April, 1866.—We reached a village called Narri, lat. 10° 23' 14" S. Many of the men had touches of fever. I gave medicine to eleven of them, and next morning all were better. Food is abundant and cheap. Our course is nearly south, and in "wadys," from which, following the trade-road, we often ascend the heights, and then from the villages, which are on the higher land, we descend to another on the same wady. No running water is seen; the people depend on wells for a supply.

11th April, 1866.—At Tandahara we were still ascending as we went south; the soil is very fertile, with a good admixture of sand in it, but no rocks are visible. Very heavy crops of maize and sorghum are raised, and the cassava bushes are seven feet in height. The bamboos are cleared off them, spread over the space to be cultivated and burned to serve as manure. Iron is very scarce, for many of the men appear with wooden spears; they find none here, but in some spots where an ooze issued from the soil iron rust appeared. At each of the villages where we spent a night we presented a fathom of calico, and the headman always gave a fowl or two, and a basket of rice or maize. The Makondé dialect is quite different from Swaheli, but from their intercourse with the coast Arabs many of the people here have acquired a knowledge of Swaheli.

A Thorn-climber.

12th April, 1866.—On starting we found the jungle so dense that the people thought "there was no cutting it:" it continued upwards of three miles. The trees are not large, but so closely planted together that a great deal of labour was required to widen and heighten the path: where bamboos prevail they have starved out the woody trees. The reason why the trees are not large is because all the spaces we passed over were formerly garden ground before the Makondé had been thinned by the slave-trade. As soon as a garden is deserted, a thick crop of trees of the same sorts as those formerly cut down springs up, and here the process of woody trees starving out their fellows, and occupying the land without dense scrub below, has not had time to work itself out. Many are mere poles, and so intertwined with climbers as to present the appearance of a ship's ropes and cables shaken in among them, and many have woody stems as thick as an eleven-inch hawser. One species may be likened to the scabbard of a dragoon's sword, but along the middle of the flat side runs a ridge, from which springs up every few inches a bunch of inch-long straight sharp thorns. It hangs straight for a couple of yards, but as if it could not give its thorns a fair chance of mischief, it suddenly bends on itself, and all its cruel points are now at right angles to what they were before. Darwin's observation shows a great deal of what looks like instinct in these climbers. This species seems to be eager for mischief; its tangled limbs hang out ready to inflict injury on all passers-by. Another climber is so tough it is not to be broken by the fingers; another appears at its root as a young tree, but it has the straggling habits of its class, as may be seen by its cords stretched some fifty or sixty feet off; it is often two inches in diameter; you cut it through at one part and find it reappear forty yards off.

Tomahawk and Axe.

Another climber is like the leaf of an aloe, but convoluted as strangely as shavings from the plane of a carpenter. It is dark green in colour, and when its bark is taken off it is beautifully striated beneath, lighter and darker green, like the rings of growth on wood; still another is a thin string with a succession of large knobs, and another has its bark pinched up all round at intervals so as to present a great many cutting edges. One sort need scarcely be mentioned, in which all along its length are strong bent hooks, placed in a way that will hold one if it can but grapple with him, for that is very common and not like those mentioned, which the rather seem to be stragglers from the carboniferous period of geologists, when Pachydermata wriggled unscathed among tangled masses worse than these. We employed about ten jolly young Makondé to deal with these prehistoric plants in their own way, for they are accustomed to clearing spaces for gardens, and went at the work with a will, using tomahawks well adapted for the work. They whittled away right manfully, taking an axe when any trees had to be cut. Their pay, arranged beforehand, was to be one yard of calico per day: this is not much, seeing we are still so near the sea-coast. Climbers and young trees melted before them like a cloud before the sun! Many more would have worked than we employed, but we used the precaution of taking the names of those engaged. The tall men became exhausted soonest, while the shorter men worked vigorously still—but a couple of days' hard work seemed to tell on the best of them. It is doubtful if any but meat-eating people can stand long-continued labour without exhaustion: the Chinese may be an exception. When French navvies were first employed they could not do a tithe of the work of our English ones; but when the French were fed in the same style as the English, they performed equally well. Here the Makondé have rarely the chance of a good feed of meat: it is only when one of them is fortunate enough to spear a wild hog or an antelope that they know this luxury; if a fowl is eaten they get but a taste of it with their porridge.

13th April, 1866.—We now began to descend the northern slope down to the Rovuma, and a glimpse could occasionally be had of the country; it seemed covered with great masses of dark green forest, but the undulations occasionally looked like hills, and here and there a Sterculia had put on yellow foliage in anticipation of the coming winter. More frequently our vision was circumscribed to a few yards till our merry woodcutters made for us the pleasant scene of a long vista fit for camels to pass: as a whole, the jungle would have made the authors of the natty little hints to travellers smile at their own productions, good enough, perhaps, where one has an open country with trees and hills; by which to take bearings, estimate distances, see that one point is on the same latitude, another on the same longitude with such another, and all to be laid down fair and square with protractor and compass, but so long as we remained within the vegetation, that is fed by the moisture from the Indian Ocean, the steamy, smothering air, and dank, rank, luxuriant vegetation made me feel, like it, struggling for existence,—and no more capable of taking bearings than if I had been in a hogshead and observing through the bunghole!

An old Monyiñko headman presented a goat and asked if the sepoys wished to cut its throat: the Johannees, being of a different sect of Mahometans, wanted to cut it in some other way than their Indian co-religionists: then ensued a fierce dispute as to who was of the right sort of Moslem! It was interesting to see that not Christians alone, but other nations feel keenly on religious subjects.

I saw rocks of grey sandstone (like that which overlies coal) and the Rovuma in the distance. Didi is the name of a village whose headsman, Chombokëa, is said to be a doctor; all the headmen pretend or are really doctors; however one, Fundindomba, came after me for medicine for himself.

14th April, 1866.—To-day we succeeded in reaching the Rovuma, where some very red cliffs appear on the opposite heights, and close by where it is marked on the map that the Pioneer turned back in 1861. Here we rested on Sunday 15th.

16th April, 1866.—Our course now lay westwards, along the side of that ragged outline of table-land, which we had formerly seen from the river as flanking both sides. There it appeared a range of hills shutting in Rovuma, here we had spurs jutting out towards the river, and valleys retiring from a mile to three miles inland. Sometimes we wended our way round them, sometimes rose over and descended their western sides, and then a great deal of wood-cutting was required. The path is not straight, but from one village to another. We came perpetually on gardens, and remarked that rice was sown among the other grain; there must be a good deal of moisture at other times to admit of this succeeding: at present the crops were suffering for want of rain. We could purchase plenty of rice for the sepoys, and well it was so, for the supply which was to last till we arrived at Ngomano was finished on the 13th. An old doctor, with our food awaiting, presented me with two large bags of rice and his wife husked it for us.

17th April, 1866.—I had to leave the camels in the hands of the sepoys: I ordered them to bring as little luggage as possible, and the Havildar assured me that two buffaloes were amply sufficient to carry all they would bring. I now find that they have more than full loads for two buffaloes, two mules, and two donkeys; but when these animals fall down under them, they assure me with so much positiveness that they are not overloaded, that I have to be silent, or only, as I have several times done before, express the opinion that they will kill these animals. This observation on my part leads them to hide their things in the packs of the camels, which also are over-burdened. I fear that my experiment with the tsetse will be vitiated, but no symptoms yet occur in any of the camels except weariness.6 The sun is very sharp; it scorches. Nearly all the sepoys had fever, but it is easily cured; they never required to stop marching, and we cannot make over four or five miles a day, which movement aids in the cure. In all cases of fever removal from the spot of attack should be made: after the fever among the sepoys, the Nassick boys took their turn along with the Johannees.

18th April, 1866.—Ben Ali misled us away up to the north in spite of my protest, when we turned in that direction; he declared that was the proper path. We had much wood-cutting, and found that our course that day and next was to enable him to visit and return from one of his wives—a comely Makondé woman! He brought her to call on me, and I had to be polite to the lady, though we lost a day by the zigzag. This is one way by which the Arabs gain influence; a great many very light-coloured people are strewed among the Makondé, but only one of these had the Arab hair. On asking Ali whether any attempts had been made by Arabs to convert those with whom they enter into such intimate relationships, he replied that the Makondé had no idea of a Deity—no one could teach them, though Makondé slaves when taken to the coast and elsewhere were made Mahometans. Since the slave-trade was introduced this tribe has much diminished in numbers, and one village makes war upon another and kidnaps, but no religious teaching has been attempted. The Arabs come down to the native ways, and make no efforts to raise the natives to theirs; it is better that it is so, for the coast Arab's manners and morals would be no improvement on the pagan African!

19th April, 1866.—We were led up over a hill again, and on to the level of the plateau (where the evaporation is greater than in the valley), and tasted water of an agreeable coldness for the first time this journey. The people, especially the women, are very rude, and the men very eager to be employed as woodcutters. Very merry they are at it, and every now and then one raises a cheerful shout, in which all join. I suppose they are urged on by a desire to please their wives with a little clothing. The higher up the Rovuma we ascend the people are more and more tattooed on the face, and on all parts of the body. The teeth are filed to points, and huge lip-rings are worn by the women; some few Mabeha men from the south side of the river have lip-rings too.

20th April, 1866.—A Johanna man allowed the camels to trespass and destroy a man's tobacco patch: the owner would not allow us after this to pass through his rice-field, in which the route lay. I examined the damage, and made the Johanna man pay a yard of calico for it, which set matters all right.

Tsetse are biting the buffaloes again. Elephants, hippopotami, and pigs are the only game here, but we see none: the tsetse feed on them. In the low meadow land, from one to three miles broad, which lies along both banks, we have brackish pools, and one, a large one, which we passed, called Wrongwé, had much fish, and salt is got from it.

21st April, 1866.