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A Popular Account of Dr. Livingstone's Expedition to the Zambesi and Its Tributaries: And of the Discovery of the Lakes Shirwa and Nyassa (1858-1864)

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own language, and felt rather proud of being able to do so; and when
they reached home, they liked to recite them to groups of admiring
friends. Their ideas of right and wrong differ in no respect from
our own, except in their professed inability to see how it can be
improper for a man to have more than one wife. A year or two ago
several of the wives of those who had been absent with us petitioned
the chief for leave to marry again. They thought that it was of no
use waiting any longer, their husbands must be dead; but Sekeletu
refused permission; he himself had bet a number of oxen that the
Doctor would return with their husbands, and he had promised the
absent men that their wives should be kept for them. The impatient
spouses had therefore to wait a little longer. Some of them,
however, eloped with other men; the wife of Mantlanyane, for
instance, ran off and left his little boy among strangers.
Mantlanyane was very angry when he heard of it, not that he cared
much about her deserting him, for he had two other wives at Tette,
but he was indignant at her abandoning his boy.

CHAPTER VIII.

Life amongst the Makololo--Return journey--Native hospitality--A
canoe voyage on the Zambesi.

While we were at Sesheke, an ox was killed by a crocodile; a man
found the carcass floating in the river, and appropriated the meat.
When the owner heard of this, he requested him to come before the
chief, as he meant to complain of him; rather than go, the delinquent
settled the matter by giving one of his own oxen in lieu of the lost
one. A headman from near Linyanti came with a complaint that all his
people had run off, owing to the "hunger." Sekeletu said, "You must
not be left to grow lean alone, some of them must come back to you."
He had thus an order to compel their return, if he chose to put it in
force. Families frequently leave their own headman and flee to
another village, and sometimes a whole village decamps by night,
leaving the headman by himself. Sekeletu rarely interfered with the
liberty of the subject to choose his own headman, and, as it is often
the fault of the latter which causes the people to depart, it is
punishment enough for him to be left alone. Flagrant disobedience to
the chief's orders is punished with death. A Moshubia man was
ordered to cut some reeds for Sekeletu: he went off, and hid himself
for two days instead. For this he was doomed to die, and was carried
in a canoe to the middle of the river, choked, and tossed into the
stream. The spectators hooted the executioners, calling out to them
that they too would soon be carried out and strangled. Occasionally
when a man is sent to beat an offender, he tells him his object,
returns, and assures the chief he has nearly killed him. The
transgressor then keeps for a while out of sight, and the matter is
forgotten. The river here teems with monstrous crocodiles, and women
are frequently, while drawing water, carried off by these reptiles.

We met a venerable warrior, sole survivor, probably, of the Mantatee
host which threatened to invade the colony in 1824. He retained a
vivid recollection of their encounter with the Griquas: "As we
looked at the men and horses, puffs of smoke arose, and some of us
dropped down dead!" "Never saw anything like it in my life, a man's
brains lying in one place and his body in another!" They could not
understand what was killing them; a ball struck a man's shield at an
angle; knocked his arm out of joint at the shoulder; and leaving a
mark, or burn, as he said, on the shield, killed another man close
by. We saw the man with his shoulder still dislocated. Sebetuane
was present at the fight, and had an exalted opinion of the power of
white people ever afterwards.

The ancient costume of the Makololo consisted of the skin of a lamb,
kid, jackal, ocelot, or other small animal, worn round and below the
loins: and in cold weather a kaross, or skin mantle, was thrown over
the shoulders. The kaross is now laid aside, and the young men of
fashion wear a monkey-jacket and a skin round the hips; but no
trousers, waistcoat, or shirt. The river and lake tribes are in
general very cleanly, bathing several times a day. The Makololo
women use water rather sparingly, rubbing themselves with melted
butter instead: this keeps off parasites, but gives their clothes a
rancid odour. One stage of civilization often leads of necessity to
another--the possession of clothes creates a demand for soap; give a
man a needle, and he is soon back to you for thread.

This being a time of mourning, on account of the illness of the
chief, the men were negligent of their persons, they did not cut
their hair, or have merry dances, or carry spear and shield when they
walked abroad. The wife of Pitsane was busy making a large hut,
while we were in the town: she informed us that the men left house-
building entirely to the women and servants. A round tower of stakes
and reeds, nine or ten feet high, is raised and plastered; a floor is
next made of soft tufa, or ant-hill material and cowdung. This
plaster prevents the poisonous insects, called tumpans, whose bite
causes fever in some, and painful sores in all, from harbouring in
the cracks or soil. The roof, which is much larger in diameter than
the tower, is made on the ground, and then, many persons assisting,
lifted up and placed on the tower, and thatched. A plastered reed
fence is next built up to meet the outer part of the roof, which
still projects a little over this fence, and a space of three feet
remains between it and the tower. We slept in this space, instead of
in the tower, as the inner door of the hut we occupied was
uncomfortably small, being only nineteen inches high, and twenty-two
inches wide at the floor. A foot from the bottom it measured
seventeen inches in breadth, and close to the top only twelve inches,
so it was a difficult matter to get through it. The tower has no
light or ventilation, except through this small door. The reason a
lady assigned for having the doors so very small was to keep out the
mice!

The children have merry times, especially in the cool of the evening.
One of their games consists of a little girl being carried on the
shoulders of two others. She sits with outstretched arms, as they
walk about with her, and all the rest clap their hands, and stopping
before each hut sing pretty airs, some beating time on their little
kilts of cowskin, others making a curious humming sound between the
songs. Excepting this and the skipping-rope, the play of the girls
consists in imitation of the serious work of their mothers, building
little huts, making small pots, and cooking, pounding corn in
miniature mortars, or hoeing tiny gardens. The boys play with spears
of reeds pointed with wood, and small shields, or bows and arrows; or
amuse themselves in making little cattle-pens, or in moulding cattle
in clay; they show great ingenuity in the imitation of various-shaped
horns. Some too are said to use slings, but as soon as they can
watch the goats, or calves, they are sent to the field. We saw many
boys riding on the calves they had in charge, but this is an
innovation since the arrival of the English with their horses.
Tselane, one of the ladies, on observing Dr. Livingstone noting
observations on the wet and dry bulb thermometers, thought that he
too was engaged in play; for on receiving no reply to her question,
which was rather difficult to answer, as the native tongue has no
scientific terms, she said with roguish glee, "Poor thing, playing
like a little child!"

Like other Africans, the Makololo have great faith in the power of
medicine; they believe that there is an especial medicine for every
ill that flesh is heir to. Mamire is anxious to have children; he
has six wives, and only one boy, and he begs earnestly for "child
medicine." The mother of Sekeletu came from the Barotse Valley to
see her son. Thinks she has lost flesh since Dr. Livingstone was
here before, and asks for "the medicine of fatness." The Makololo
consider plumpness an essential part of beauty in women, but the
extreme stoutness, mentioned by Captain Speke, in the north, would be
considered hideous here, for the men have been overheard speaking of
a lady whom we call "inclined to embonpoint," as "fat unto ugliness."

Two packages from the Kuruman, containing letters and newspapers,
reached Linyanti previous to our arrival, and Sekeletu, not knowing
when we were coming, left them there; but now at once sent a
messenger for them. This man returned on the seventh day, having
travelled 240 geographical miles. One of the packages was too heavy
for him, and he left it behind. As the Doctor wished to get some
more medicine and papers out of the wagon left at Linyanti in 1853,
he decided upon going thither himself. The chief gave him his own
horse, now about twelve years old, and some men. He found everything
in his wagon as safe as when he left it seven years before. The
headmen, Mosale and Pekonyane, received him cordially, and lamented
that they had so little to offer him. Oh! had he only arrived the
year previous, when there was abundance of milk and corn and beer.

Very early the next morning the old town-crier, Ma-Pulenyane, of his
own accord made a public proclamation, which, in the perfect
stillness of the town long before dawn, was striking: "I have
dreamed! I have dreamed! I have dreamed! Thou Mosale and thou
Pekonyane, my lords, be not faint-hearted, nor let your hearts be
sore, but believe all the words of Monare (the Doctor) for his heart
is white as milk towards the Makololo. I dreamed that he was coming,
and that the tribe would live, if you prayed to God and give heed to
the word of Monare." Ma-Pulenyane showed Dr. Livingstone the
burying-place where poor Helmore and seven others were laid,
distinguishing those whom he had put to rest, and those for whom
Mafale had performed that last office. Nothing whatever marked the
spot, and with the native idea of HIDING the dead, it was said, "it
will soon be all overgrown with bushes, for no one will cultivate
there." None but Ma-Pulenyane approached the place, the others stood
at a respectful distance; they invariably avoid everything connected
with the dead, and no such thing as taking portions of human bodies
to make charms of, as is the custom further north, has ever been
known among the Makololo.

Sekeletu's health improved greatly during our visit, the melancholy
foreboding left his spirits, and he became cheerful, but resolutely
refused to leave his den, and appear in public till he was perfectly
cured, and had regained what he considered his good looks. He also
feared lest some of those who had bewitched him originally might
still be among the people, and neutralize our remedies. {4}

As we expected another steamer to be at Kongone in November, it was
impossible for us to remain in Sesheke more than one month. Before
our departure, the chief and his principal men expressed in a formal
manner their great desire to have English people settled on the
Batoka highlands. At one time he proposed to go as far as Phori, in
order to select a place of residence; but as he afterwards saw
reasons for remaining where he was, till his cure was completed, he
gave orders to those sent with us, in the event of our getting, on
our return, past the rapids near Tette, not to bring us to Sesheke,
but to send forward a messenger, and he with the whole tribe would
come to us. Dr. Kirk being of the same age, Sekeletu was
particularly anxious that he should come and live with him. He said
that he would cut off a section of the country for the special use of
the English; and on being told that in all probability their
descendants would cause disturbance in his country, he replied,
"These would be only domestic feuds, and of no importance." The
great extent of uncultivated land on the cool and now unpeopled
highlands has but to be seen to convince the spectator how much room
there is, and to spare, for a vastly greater population than ever, in
our day, can be congregated there.

On the last occasion of our holding Divine service at Sesheke, the
men were invited to converse on the subject on which they had been
addressed. So many of them had died since we were here before, that
not much probability existed of our all meeting again, and this had
naturally led to the subject of a future state. They replied that
they did not wish to offend the speaker, but they could not believe
that all the dead would rise again: "Can those who have been killed
in the field and devoured by the vultures; or those who have been
eaten by the hyenas or lions; or those who have been tossed into the
river, and eaten by more than one crocodile,--can they all be raised
again to life?" They were told that men could take a leaden bullet,
change it into a salt (acetate of lead), which could be dissolved as
completely in water as our bodies in the stomachs of animals, and
then reconvert it into lead; or that the bullet could be transformed
into the red and white paint of our wagons, and again be reconverted
into the original lead; and that if men exactly like themselves could
do so much, how much more could He do who has made the eye to see,
and the ear to hear! We added, however, that we believed in a
resurrection, not because we understood how it would be brought
about, but because our Heavenly Father assured us of it in His Book.
The reference to the truth of the Book and its Author seems always to
have more influence on the native mind than the cleverness of the
illustration. The knowledge of the people is scanty, but their
reasoning is generally clear as far as their information goes.

We left Sesheke on the 17th September, 1860, convoyed by Pitsane and
Leshore with their men. Pitsane was ordered by Sekeletu to make a
hedge round the garden at the Falls, to protect the seeds we had
brought; and also to collect some of the tobacco tribute below the
Falls. Leshore, besides acting as a sort of guard of honour to us,
was sent on a diplomatic mission to Sinamane. No tribute was exacted
by Sekeletu from Sinamane; but, as he had sent in his adhesion, he
was expected to act as a guard in case of the Matebele wishing to
cross and attack the Makololo. As we intended to purchase canoes of
Sinamane in which to descend the river, Leshore was to commend us to
whatever help this Batoka chief could render. It must be confessed
that Leshore's men, who were all of the black subject tribes, really
needed to be viewed by us in the most charitable light; for Leshore,
on entering any village, called out to the inhabitants, "Look out for
your property, and see that my thieves don't steal it."

Two young Makololo with their Batoka servants accompanied us to see
if Kebrabasa could be surmounted, and to bring a supply of medicine
for Sekeletu's leprosy; and half a dozen able canoe-men, under
Mobito, who had previously gone with Dr. Livingstone to Loanda, were
sent to help us in our river navigation. Some men on foot drove six
oxen which Sekeletu had given us as provisions for the journey. It
was, as before remarked, a time of scarcity; and, considering the
dearth of food, our treatment had been liberal.

By day the canoe-men are accustomed to keep close under the river's
bank from fear of the hippopotami; by night, however, they keep in
the middle of the stream, as then those animals are usually close to
the bank on their way to their grazing grounds. Our progress was
considerably impeded by the high winds, which at this season of the
year begin about eight in the morning, and blow strongly up the river
all day. The canoes were poor leaky affairs, and so low in parts of
the gunwale, that the paddlers were afraid to follow the channel when
it crossed the river, lest the waves might swamp us. A rough sea is
dreaded by all these inland canoe-men; but though timid, they are by
no means unskilful at their work. The ocean rather astonished them
afterwards; and also the admirable way that the Nyassa men managed
their canoes on a rough lake, and even amongst the breakers, where no
small boat could possibly live.

On the night of the 17th we slept on the left bank of the Majeele,
after having had all the men ferried across. An ox was slaughtered,
and not an ounce of it was left next morning. Our two young Makololo
companions, Maloka and Ramakukane, having never travelled before,
naturally clung to some of the luxuries they had been accustomed to
at home. When they lay down to sleep, their servants were called to
spread their blankets over their august persons, not forgetting their
feet. This seems to be the duty of the Makololo wife to her husband,
and strangers sometimes receive the honour. One of our party, having
wandered, slept at the village of Nambowe. When he laid down, to his
surprise two of Nambowe's wives came at once, and carefully and
kindly spread his kaross over him.

A beautiful silvery fish with reddish fins, called Ngwesi, is very
abundant in the river; large ones weigh fifteen or twenty pounds
each. Its teeth are exposed, and so arranged that, when they meet,
the edges cut a hook like nippers. The Ngwesi seems to be a very
ravenous fish. It often gulps down the Konokono, a fish armed with
serrated bones more than an inch in length in the pectoral and dorsal
fins, which, fitting into a notch at the roots, can be put by the
fish on full cock or straight out,--they cannot be folded down,
without its will, and even break in resisting. The name "Konokono,"
elbow-elbow, is given it from a resemblance its extended fins are
supposed to bear to a man's elbows stuck out from his body. It often
performs the little trick of cocking its fins in the stomach of the
Ngwesi, and, the elbows piercing its enemy's sides, he is frequently
found floating dead. The fin bones seem to have an acrid secretion
on them, for the wound they make is excessively painful. The
Konokono barks distinctly when landed with the hook. Our canoe-men
invariably picked up every dead fish they saw on the surface of the
water, however far gone. An unfragrant odour was no objection; the
fish was boiled and eaten, and the water drunk as soup. It is a
curious fact that many of the Africans keep fish as we do woodcocks,
until they are extremely offensive, before they consider them fit to
eat. Our paddlers informed us on our way down that iguanas lay their
eggs in July and August, and crocodiles in September. The eggs
remain a month or two under the sand where they are laid, and the
young come out when the rains have fairly commenced. The canoe-men
were quite positive that crocodiles frequently stun men by striking
them with their tails, and then squat on them till they are drowned.
We once caught a young crocodile, which certainly did use its tail to
inflict sharp blows, and led us to conclude that the native opinion
is correct. They believed also that, if a person shuts the beast's
eyes, it lets go its hold. Crocodiles have been known to unite and
kill a large one of their own species and eat it. Some fishermen
throw the bones of the fish into the river but in most of the fishing
villages there are heaps of them in various places. The villagers
can walk over them without getting them into their feet; but the
Makololo, from having softer soles, are unable to do so. The
explanation offered was, that the fishermen have a medicine against
fish-bones, but that they will not reveal it to the Makololo.

We spent a night on Mparira island, which is four miles long and
about one mile broad. Mokompa, the headman, was away hunting
elephants. His wife sent for him on our arrival, and he returned
next morning before we left. Taking advantage of the long-continued
drought, he had set fire to the reeds between the Chobe and Zambesi,
in such a manner as to drive the game out at one corner, where his
men laid in wait with their spears. He had killed five elephants and
three buffaloes, wounding several others which escaped.

On our land party coming up, we were told that the oxen were bitten
by the tsetse: they could see a great difference in their looks.
One was already eaten, and they now wished to slaughter another. A
third fell into a buffalo-pit next day, so our stock was soon
reduced.

The Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, again treated us with his usual
hospitality, giving us an ox, some meal, and milk. We took another
view of the grand Mosi-oa-tunya, and planted a quantity of seeds in
the garden on the island; but, as no one will renew the hedge, the
hippopotami will, doubtless, soon destroy what we planted.
Mashotlane assisted us. So much power was allowed to this under-
chief, that he appeared as if he had cast off the authority of
Sekeletu altogether. He did not show much courtesy to his
messengers; instead of giving them food, as is customary, he took the
meat out of a pot in their presence, and handed it to his own
followers. This may have been because Sekeletu's men bore an order
to him to remove to Linyanti. He had not only insulted Baldwin, but
had also driven away the Griqua traders; but this may all end in
nothing. Some of the natives here, and at Sesheke, know a few of the
low tricks of more civilized traders. A pot of milk was brought to
us one evening, which was more indebted to the Zambesi than to any
cow. Baskets of fine-looking white meal, elsewhere, had occasionally
the lower half filled with bran. Eggs are always a perilous
investment. The native idea of a good egg differs as widely from our
own as is possible on such a trifling subject. An egg is eaten here
with apparent relish, though an embryo chick be inside.

We left Mosi-oa-tunya on the 27th, and slept close to the village of
Bakwini. It is built on a ridge of loose red soil, which produces
great crops of mapira and ground-nuts; many magnificent mosibe-trees
stand near the village. Machimisi, the headman of the village,
possesses a herd of cattle and a large heart; he kept us company for
a couple of days to guide us on our way.

We had heard a good deal of a stronghold some miles below the Falls,
called Kalunda. Our return path was much nearer the Zambesi than
that of our ascent,--in fact, as near as the rough country would
allow,--but we left it twice before we reached Sinamane's, in order
to see Kalunda and a Fall called Moomba, or Moamba. The Makololo had
once dispossessed the Batoka of Kalunda, but we could not see the
fissure, or whatever it is, that rendered it a place of security, as
it was on the southern bank. The crack of the Great Falls was here
continued: the rocks are the same as further up, but perhaps less
weather-worn--and now partially stratified in great thick masses.
The country through which we were travelling was covered with a
cindery-looking volcanic tufa, and might be called "Katakaumena."

The description we received of the Moamba Falls seemed to promise
something grand. They were said to send up "smoke" in the wet
season, like Mosi-oa-tunya; but when we looked down into the cleft,
in which the dark-green narrow river still rolls, we saw, about 800
or 1000 feet below us, what, after Mosi-oa-tunya, seemed two
insignificant cataracts. It was evident that Pitsane, observing our
delight at the Victoria Falls, wished to increase our pleasure by a
second wonder. One Mosi-oa-tunya, however, is quite enough for a
continent.

We had now an opportunity of seeing more of the Batoka, than we had
on the highland route to our north. They did not wait till the
evening before offering food to the strangers. The aged wife of the
headman of a hamlet, where we rested at midday, at once kindled a
fire, and put on the cooking-pot to make porridge. Both men and
women are to be distinguished by greater roundness of feature than
the other natives, and the custom of knocking out the upper front
teeth gives at once a distinctive character to the face. Their
colour attests the greater altitude of the country in which many of
them formerly lived. Some, however, are as dark as the Bashubia and
Barotse of the great valley to their west, in which stands Sesheke,
formerly the capital of the Balui, or Bashubia.

The assertion may seem strange, yet it is none the less true, that in
all the tribes we have visited we never saw a really black person.
Different shades of brown prevail, and often with a bright bronze
tint, which no painter, except Mr. Angus, seems able to catch. Those
who inhabit elevated, dry situations, and who are not obliged to work
much in the sun, are frequently of a light warm brown, "dark but
comely." Darkness of colour is probably partly caused by the sun,
and partly by something in the climate or soil which we do not yet
know. We see something of the same sort in trout and other fish
which take their colour from the ponds or streams in which they live.
The members of our party were much less embrowned by free exposure to
the sun for years than Dr. Livingstone and his family were by passing
once from Kuruman to Cape Town, a journey which occupied only a
couple of months.

We encamped on the Kalomo, on the 1st of October, and found the
weather very much warmer than when we crossed this stream in August.
At 3 p.m. the thermometer, four feet from the ground, was 101 degrees
in the shade; the wet bulb only 61 degrees: a difference of 40
degrees. Yet, notwithstanding this extreme dryness of the
atmosphere, without a drop of rain having fallen for months, and
scarcely any dew, many of the shrubs and trees were putting forth
fresh leaves of various hues, while others made a profuse display of
lovely blossoms.

Two old and very savage buffaloes were shot for our companions on the
3rd October. Our Volunteers may feel an interest in knowing that
balls sometimes have but little effect: one buffalo fell, on
receiving a Jacob's shell; it was hit again twice, and lost a large
amount of blood; and yet it sprang up, and charged a native, who, by
great agility, had just time to climb a tree, before the maddened
beast struck it, battering-ram fashion, hard enough almost to have
split both head and tree. It paused a few seconds--drew back several
paces--glared up at the man--and then dashed at the tree again and
again, as if determined to shake him out of it. It took two more
Jacob's shells, and five other large solid rifle-balls to finish the
beast at last. These old surly buffaloes had been wandering about in
a sort of miserable fellowship; their skins were diseased and scabby,
as if leprous, and their horns atrophied or worn down to stumps--the
first was killed outright, by one Jacob's shell, the second died
hard. There is so much difference in the tenacity of life in wounded
animals of the same species, that the inquiry is suggested where the
seat of life can be?--We have seen a buffalo live long enough, after
a large bullet had passed right through the heart, to allow firm
adherent clots to be formed in the two holes.

One day's journey above Sinamane's, a mass of mountain called
Gorongue, or Golongwe, is said to cross the river, and the rent
through which the river passes is, by native report, quite fearful to
behold. The country round it is so rocky, that our companions
dreaded the fatigue, and were not much to blame, if, as is probably
the case, the way be worse than that over which we travelled. As we
trudged along over the black slag-like rocks, the almost leafless
trees affording no shade, the heat was quite as great as Europeans
could bear. It was 102 degrees in the shade, and a thermometer
placed under the tongue or armpit showed that our blood was 99.5
degrees, or 1.5 degrees hotter than that of the natives, which stood
at 98 degrees. Our shoes, however, enable us to pass over the hot
burning soil better than they can. Many of those who wear sandals
have corns on the sides of the feet, and on the heels, where the
straps pass. We have seen instances, too, where neither sandals nor
shoes were worn, of corns on the soles of the feet. It is, moreover,
not at all uncommon to see toes cocked up, as if pressed out of their
proper places; at home, we should have unhesitatingly ascribed this
to the vicious fashions perversely followed by our shoemakers.

On the 5th, after crossing some hills, we rested at the village of
Simariango. The bellows of the blacksmith here were somewhat
different from the common goatskin bags, and more like those seen in
Madagascar. They consisted of two wooden vessels, like a lady's
bandbox of small dimensions, the upper ends of which were covered
with leather, and looked something like the heads of drums, except
that the leather bagged in the centre. They were fitted with long
nozzles, through which the air was driven by working the loose
covering of the tops up and down by means of a small piece of wood
attached to their centres. The blacksmith said that tin was obtained
from a people in the north, called Marendi, and that he had made it
into bracelets; we had never heard before of tin being found in the
country.

Our course then lay down the bed of a rivulet, called Mapatizia, in
which there was much calc spar, with calcareous schist, and then the
Tette grey sandstone, which usually overlies coal. On the 6th we
arrived at the islet Chilombe, belonging to Sinamane, where the
Zambesi runs broad and smooth again, and were well received by
Sinamane himself. Never was Sunday more welcome to the weary than
this, the last we were to spend with our convoy.

We now saw many good-looking young men and women. The dresses of the
ladies are identical with those of Nubian women in Upper Egypt. To a
belt on the waist a great number of strings are attached to hang all
round the person. These fringes are about six or eight inches long.
The matrons wear in addition a skin cut like the tails of the coatee
formerly worn by our dragoons. The younger girls wear the waist-belt
exhibited in the woodcut, ornamented with shells, and have the
fringes only in front. Marauding parties of Batoka, calling
themselves Makololo, have for some time had a wholesome dread of
Sinamane's "long spears." Before going to Tette our Batoka friend,
Masakasa, was one of a party that came to steal some of the young
women; but Sinamane, to their utter astonishment, attacked them so
furiously that the survivors barely escaped with their lives.
Masakasa had to flee so fast that he threw away his shield, his
spear, and his clothes, and returned home a wiser and a sadder man.

Sinamane's people cultivate large quantities of tobacco, which they
manufacture into balls for the Makololo market. Twenty balls,
weighing about three-quarters of a pound each, are sold for a hoe.
The tobacco is planted on low moist spots on the banks of the
Zambesi; and was in flower at the time we were there, in October.
Sinamane's people appear to have abundance of food, and are all in
good condition. He could sell us only two of his canoes; but lent us
three more to carry us as far as Moemba's, where he thought others
might be purchased. They were manned by his own canoe-men, who were
to bring them back. The river is about 250 yards wide, and flows
serenely between high banks towards the North-east. Below Sinamane's
the banks are often worn down fifty feet, and composed of shingle and
gravel of igneous rocks, sometimes set in a ferruginous matrix. The
bottom is all gravel and shingle, how formed we cannot imagine,
unless in pot-holes in the deep fissure above. The bottom above the
Falls, save a few rocks close by them, is generally sandy or of soft
tufa. Every damp spot is covered with maize, pumpkins, water-melons,
tobacco, and hemp. There is a pretty numerous Batoka population on
both sides of the river. As we sailed slowly down, the people
saluted us from the banks, by clapping their hands. A headman even
hailed us, and brought a generous present of corn and pumpkins.

Moemba owns a rich island, called Mosanga, a mile in length, on which
his village stands. He has the reputation of being a brave warrior,
and is certainly a great talker; but he gave us strangers something
better than a stream of words. We received a handsome present of
corn, and the fattest goat we had ever seen; it resembled mutton.
His people were as liberal as their chief. They brought two large
baskets of corn, and a lot of tobacco, as a sort of general
contribution to the travellers. One of Sinamane's canoe-men, after
trying to get his pay, deserted here, and went back before the
stipulated time, with the story, that the Englishman had stolen the
canoes. Shortly after sunrise next morning, Sinamane came into the
village with fifty of his "long spears," evidently determined to
retake his property by force; he saw at a glance that his man had
deceived him. Moemba rallied him for coming on a wildgoose chase.
"Here are your canoes left with me, your men have all been paid, and
the Englishmen are now asking me to sell my canoes." Sinamane said
little to us; only observing that he had been deceived by his
follower. A single remark of his chief's caused the foolish fellow
to leave suddenly, evidently much frightened and crestfallen.
Sinamane had been very kind to us, and, as he was looking on when we
gave our present to Moemba, we made him also an additional offering
of some beads, and parted good friends. Moemba, having heard that we
had called the people of Sinamane together to tell them about our
Saviour's mission to man, and to pray with them, associated the idea
of Sunday with the meeting, and, before anything of the sort was
proposed, came and asked that he and his people might be "sundayed"
as well as his neighbours; and be given a little seed wheat, and
fruit-tree seeds; with which request of course we very willingly
complied. The idea of praying direct to the Supreme Being, though
not quite new to all, seems to strike their minds so forcibly that it
will not be forgotten. Sinamane said that he prayed to God, Morungo,
and made drink-offerings to him. Though he had heard of us, he had
never seen white men before.

Beautiful crowned cranes, named from their note "ma-wang," were seen
daily, and were beginning to pair. Large flocks of spur-winged
geese, or machikwe, were common. This goose is said to lay her eggs
in March. We saw also pairs of Egyptian geese, as well as a few of
the knob-nosed, or, as they are called in India, combed geese. When
the Egyptian geese, as at the present time, have young, the goslings
keep so steadily in the wake of their mother, that they look as if
they were a part of her tail; and both parents, when on land,
simulate lameness quite as well as our plovers, to draw off pursuers.
The ostrich also adopts the lapwing fashion, but no quadrupeds do:
they show fight to defend their young instead. In some places the
steep banks were dotted with the holes which lead into the nests of
bee-eaters. These birds came out in hundreds as we passed. When the
red-breasted species settle on the trees, they give them the
appearance of being covered with red foliage.

On the morning of the 12th October we passed through a wild, hilly
country, with fine wooded scenery on both sides, but thinly
inhabited. The largest trees were usually thorny acacias, of great
size and beautiful forms. As we sailed by several villages without
touching, the people became alarmed, and ran along the banks, spears
in hand. We employed one to go forward and tell Mpande of our
coming. This allayed their fears, and we went ashore, and took
breakfast near the large island with two villages on it, opposite the
mouth of the Zungwe, where we had left the Zambesi on our way up.
Mpande was sorry that he had no canoes of his own to sell, but he
would lend us two. He gave us cooked pumpkins and a water-melon.
His servant had lateral curvature of the spine. We have often seen
cases of humpback, but this was the only case of this kind of
curvature we had met with. Mpande accompanied us himself in his own
vessel, till we had an opportunity of purchasing a fine large canoe
elsewhere. We paid what was considered a large price for it: twelve
strings of blue cut glass neck beads, an equal number of large blue
ones of the size of marbles, and two yards of grey calico. Had the
beads been coarser, they would have been more valued, because such
were in fashion. Before concluding the bargain the owner said "his
bowels yearned for his canoe, and we must give a little more to stop
their yearning." This was irresistible. The trading party of
Sequasha, which we now met, had purchased ten large new canoes for
six strings of cheap coarse white beads each, or their equivalent,
four yards of calico, and had bought for the merest trifle ivory
enough to load them all. They were driving a trade in slaves also,
which was something new in this part of Africa, and likely soon to
change the character of the inhabitants. These men had been living
in clover, and were uncommonly fat and plump. When sent to trade,
slaves wisely never stint themselves of beer or anything else, which
their master's goods can buy.

The temperature of the Zambesi had increased 10 degrees since August,
being now 80 degrees. The air was as high as 96 degrees after
sunset; and, the vicinity of the water being the coolest part, we
usually made our beds close by the river's brink, though there in
danger of crocodiles. Africa differs from India in the air always
becoming cool and refreshing long before the sun returns, and there
can be no doubt that we can in this country bear exposure to the sun,
which would be fatal in India. It is probably owing to the greater
dryness of the African atmosphere that sunstroke is so rarely met
with. In twenty-two years Dr. Livingstone never met or heard of a
single case, though the protective head-dresses of India are rarely
seen.

When the water is nearly at its lowest, we occasionally meet with
small rapids which are probably not in existence during the rest of
the year. Having slept opposite the rivulet Bume, which comes from
the south, we passed the island of Nakansalo, and went down the
rapids of the same name on the 17th, and came on the morning of the
19th to the more serious ones of Nakabele, at the entrance to Kariba.
The Makololo guided the canoes admirably through the opening in the
dyke. When we entered the gorge we came on upwards of thirty
hippopotami: a bank near the entrance stretches two-thirds across
the narrowed river, and in the still place behind it they were
swimming about. Several were in the channel, and our canoe-men were
afraid to venture down among them, because, as they affirm, there is
commonly an ill-natured one in a herd, which takes a malignant
pleasure in upsetting canoes. Two or three boys on the rocks
opposite amused themselves by throwing stones at the frightened
animals, and hit several on the head. It would have been no
difficult matter to have shot the whole herd. We fired a few shots
to drive them off; the balls often glance off the skull, and no more
harm is done than when a schoolboy gets a bloody nose; we killed one,
which floated away down the rapid current, followed by a number of
men on the bank. A native called to us from the left bank, and said
that a man on his side knew how to pray to the Kariba gods, and
advised us to hire him to pray for our safety, while we were going
down the rapids, or we should certainly all be drowned. No one ever
risked his life in Kariba without first paying the river-doctor, or
priest, for his prayers. Our men asked if there was a cataract in
front, but he declined giving any information; they were not on his
side of the river; if they would come over, then he might be able to
tell them. We crossed, but he went off to the village. We then
landed and walked over the hills to have a look at Karaba before
trusting our canoes in it. The current was strong, and there was
broken water in some places, but the channel was nearly straight, and
had no cataract, so we determined to risk it. Our men visited the
village while we were gone, and were treated to beer and tobacco.
The priest who knows how to pray to the god that rules the rapids
followed us with several of his friends, and they were rather
surprised to see us pass down in safety, without the aid of his
intercession. The natives who followed the dead hippopotamus caught
it a couple of miles below, and, having made it fast to a rock, were
sitting waiting for us on the bank beside the dead animal. As there
was a considerable current there, and the rocky banks were unfit for
our beds, we took the hippopotamus in tow, telling the villagers to
follow, and we would give them most of the meat. The crocodiles
tugged so hard at the carcass, that we were soon obliged to cast it
adrift, to float down in the current, to avoid upsetting the canoe.
We had to go on so far before finding a suitable spot to spend the
night in, that the natives concluded we did not intend to share the
meat with them, and returned to the village. We slept two nights at
the place where the hippopotamus was cut up. The crocodiles had a
busy time of it in the dark, tearing away at what was left in the
river, and thrashing the water furiously with their powerful tails.
The hills on both sides of Kariba are much like those of Kebrabasa,
the strata tilted and twisted in every direction, with no level
ground.

Although the hills confine the Zambesi within a narrow channel for a
number of miles, there are no rapids beyond those near the entrance.
The river is smooth and apparently very deep. Only one single human
being was seen in the gorge, the country being too rough for culture.
Some rocks in the water, near the outlet of Kariba, at a distance
look like a fort; and such large masses dislocated, bent, and even
twisted to a remarkable degree, at once attest some tremendous
upheaving and convulsive action of nature, which probably caused
Kebrabasa, Kariba, and the Victoria Falls to assume their present
forms; it took place after the formation of the coal, that mineral
having then been tilted up. We have probably nothing equal to it in
the present quiet operations of nature.

On emerging we pitched our camp by a small stream, the Pendele, a few
miles below the gorge. The Palabi mountain stands on the western
side of the lower end of the Kariba strait; the range to which it
belongs crosses the river, and runs to the south-east. Chikumbula, a
hospitable old headman, under Nchomokela, the paramount chief of a
large district, whom we did not see, brought us next morning a great
basket of meal, and four fowls, with some beer, and a cake of salt,
"to make it taste good." Chikumbula said that the elephants plagued
them, by eating up the cotton-plants; but his people seem to be well
off.

A few days before we came, they caught three buffaloes in pitfalls in
one night, and, unable to eat them all, left one to rot. During the
night the wind changed and blew from the dead buffalo to our
sleeping-place; and a hungry lion, not at all dainty in his food,
stirred up the putrid mass, and growled and gloated over his feast,
to the disturbance of our slumbers. Game of all kinds is in most
extraordinary abundance, especially from this point to below the
Kafue, and so it is on Moselekatso's side, where there are no
inhabitants. The drought drives all the game to the river to drink.
An hour's walk on the right bank, morning or evening, reveals a
country swarming with wild animals: vast herds of pallahs, many
waterbucks, koodoos, buffaloes, wild pigs, elands, zebras, and
monkeys appear; francolins, guinea-fowls, and myriads of turtledoves
attract the eye in the covers, with the fresh spoor of elephants and
rhinoceroses, which had been at the river during the night. Every
few miles we came upon a school of hippopotami, asleep on some
shallow sandbank; their bodies, nearly all out of the water, appeared
like masses of black rock in the river. When these animals are
hunted much, they become proportionably wary, but here no hunter ever
troubles them, and they repose in security, always however taking the
precaution of sleeping just above the deep channel, into which they
can plunge when alarmed. When a shot is fired into a sleeping herd,
all start up on their feet, and stare with peculiar stolid looks of
hippopotamic surprise, and wait for another shot before dashing into
deep water. A few miles below Chikumbula's we saw a white
hippopotamus in a herd. Our men had never seen one like it before.
It was of a pinkish white, exactly like the colour of the Albino. It
seemed to be the father of a number of others, for there were many
marked with large light patches. The so-called WHITE elephant is
just such a pinkish Albino as this hippopotamus. A few miles above
Kariba we observed that, in two small hamlets, many of the
inhabitants had a similar affection of the skin. The same influence
appeared to have affected man and beast. A dark coloured
hippopotamus stood alone, as if expelled from the herd, and bit the
water, shaking his head from side to side in a most frantic manner.
When the female has twins, she is said to kill one of them.

We touched at the beautiful tree-covered island of Kalabi, opposite
where Tuba-mokoro lectured the lion in our way up. The ancestors of
the people who now inhabit this island possessed cattle. The tsetse
has taken possession of the country since "the beeves were lifted."
No one knows where these insects breed; at a certain season all
disappear, and as suddenly come back, no one knows whence. The
natives are such close observers of nature, that their ignorance in
this case surprised us. A solitary hippopotamus had selected the
little bay in which we landed, and where the women drew water, for
his dwelling-place. Pretty little lizards, with light blue and red
tails, run among the rocks, catching flies and other insects. These
harmless--though to new-comers repulsive--creatures sometimes perform
good service to man, by eating great numbers of the destructive white
ants.

At noon on the 24th October, we found Sequasha in a village below the
Kafue, with the main body of his people. He said that 210 elephants
had been killed during his trip; many of his men being excellent
hunters. The numbers of animals we saw renders this possible. He
reported that, after reaching the Kafue, he went northwards into the
country of the Zulus, whose ancestors formerly migrated from the
south and set up a sort of Republican form of government. Sequasha
is the greatest Portuguese traveller we ever became acquainted with,
and he boasts that he is able to speak a dozen different dialects;
yet, unfortunately, he can give but a very meagre account of the
countries and people he has seen, and his statements are not very
much to be relied on. But considering the influence among which he
has been reared, and the want of the means of education at Tette, it
is a wonder that he possesses the good traits that he sometimes
exhibits. Among his wares were several cheap American clocks; a
useless investment rather, for a part of Africa where no one cares
for the artificial measurement of time. These clocks got him into
trouble among the Banyai: he set them all agoing in the presence of
a chief, who became frightened at the strange sounds they made, and
looked upon them as so many witchcraft agencies at work to bring all
manner of evils upon himself and his people. Sequasha, it was
decided, had been guilty of a milando, or crime, and he had to pay a
heavy fine of cloth and beads for his exhibition. He alluded to our
having heard that he had killed Mpangwe, and he denied having
actually done so; but in his absence his name had got mixed up in the
affair, in consequence of his slaves, while drinking beer one night
with Namakusuru, the man who succeeded Mpangwe, saying that they
would kill the chief for him. His partner had not thought of this
when we saw him on the way up, for he tried to excuse the murder, by
saying that now they had put the right man into the chieftainship.

After three hours' sail, on the morning of the 29th, the river was
narrowed again by the mountains of Mburuma, called Karivua, into one
channel, and another rapid dimly appeared. It was formed by two
currents guided by rocks to the centre. In going down it, the men
sent by Sekeletu behaved very nobly. The canoes entered without
previous survey, and the huge jobbling waves of mid-current began at
once to fill them. With great presence of mind, and without a
moment's hesitation, two men lightened each by jumping overboard;
they then ordered a Botoka man to do the same, as "the white men must
be saved." "I cannot swim," said the Batoka. "Jump out, then, and
hold on to the canoe;" which he instantly did. Swimming alongside,
they guided the swamping canoes down the swift current to the foot of
the rapid, and then ran them ashore to bale them out. A boat could
have passed down safely, but our canoes were not a foot above the
water at the gunwales.

Thanks to the bravery of these poor fellows, nothing was lost,
although everything was well soaked. This rapid is nearly opposite
the west end of the Mburuma mountains or Karivua. Another soon
begins below it. They are said to be all smoothed over when the
river rises. The canoes had to be unloaded at this the worst rapid,
and the goods carried about a hundred yards. By taking the time in
which a piece of stick floated past 100 feet, we found the current to
be running six knots, by far the greatest velocity noted in the
river. As the men were bringing the last canoe down close to the
shore, the stern swung round into the current, and all except one man
let go, rather than be dragged off. He clung to the bow, and was
swept out into the middle of the stream. Having held on when he
ought to have let go, he next put his life in jeopardy by letting go
when he ought to have held on; and was in a few seconds swallowed up
by a fearful whirlpool. His comrades launched out a canoe below, and
caught him as he rose the third time to the surface, and saved him,
though much exhausted and very cold.

The scenery of this pass reminded us of Kebrabasa, although it is
much inferior. A band of the same black shining glaze runs along the
rocks about two feet from the water's edge. There was not a blade of
grass on some of the hills, it being the end of the usual dry season
succeeding a previous severe drought; yet the hill-sides were dotted
over with beautiful green trees. A few antelopes were seen on the
rugged slopes, where some people too appeared lying down, taking a
cup of beer. The Karivua narrows are about thirty miles in length.
They end at the mountain Roganora. Two rocks, twelve or fifteen feet
above the water at the time we were there, may in flood be covered
and dangerous. Our chief danger was the wind, a very slight ripple
being sufficient to swamp canoes.

CHAPTER IX.

The waterbuck--Disaster in Kebrabasa rapids--The "Ma Robert"
founders--Arrival of the "Pioneer" and Bishop Mackenzie's party--
Portuguese slave-trade--Interference and liberation.

We arrived at Zumbo, at the mouth of the Loangwa, on the 1st of
November. The water being scarcely up to the knee, our land party
waded this river with ease. A buffalo was shot on an island opposite
Pangola's, the ball lodging in the spleen. It was found to have been
wounded in the same organ previously, for an iron bullet was imbedded
in it, and the wound entirely healed. A great deal of the plant
Pistia stratiotes was seen floating in the river. Many people
inhabit the right bank about this part, yet the game is very
abundant.

As we were taking our breakfast on the morning of the 2nd, the Mambo
Kazai, of whom we knew nothing, and his men came with their muskets
and large powder-horns to levy a fine, and obtain payment for the
wood we used in cooking. But on our replying to his demand that we
were English, "Oh! are you?" he said; "I thought you were Bazungu
(Portuguese). They are the people I take payments from:" and he
apologized for his mistake. Bazungu, or Azungu, is a term applied to
all foreigners of a light colour, and to Arabs; even to trading
slaves if clothed; it probably means foreigners, or visitors,--from
zunga, to visit or wander,--and the Portuguese were the only
foreigners these men had ever seen. As we had no desire to pass for
people of that nation--quite the contrary--we usually made a broad
line of demarcation by saying that we were English, and the English
neither bought, sold, nor held black people as slaves, but wished to
put a stop to the slave-trade altogether.

We called upon our friend, Mpende, in passing. He provided a hut for
us, with new mats spread on the floor. Having told him that we were
hurrying on because the rains were near, "Are they near?" eagerly
inquired an old counsellor, "and are we to have plenty of rain this
year?" We could only say that it was about the usual time for the
rains to commence; and that there were the usual indications in great
abundance of clouds floating westwards, but that we knew nothing more
than they did themselves.

The hippopotami are more wary here than higher up, as the natives
hunt them with guns. Having shot one on a shallow sandbank, our men
undertook to bring it over to the left bank, in order to cut it up
with greater ease. It was a fine fat one, and all rejoiced in the
hope of eating the fat for butter, with our hard dry cakes of native
meal. Our cook was sent over to cut a choice piece for dinner, but
returned with the astonishing intelligence that the carcass was gone.
They had been hoodwinked, and were very much ashamed of themselves.
A number of Banyai came to assist in rolling it ashore, and asserted
that it was all shallow water. They rolled it over and over towards
the land, and, finding the rope we had made fast to it, as they said,
an encumbrance, it was unloosed. All were shouting and talking as
loud as they could bawl, when suddenly our expected feast plumped
into a deep hole, as the Banyai intended it should do. When sinking,
all the Makololo jumped in after it. One caught frantically at the
tail; another grasped a foot; a third seized the hip; "but, by
Sebituane, it would go down in spite of all that we could do."
Instead of a fat hippopotamus we had only a lean fowl for dinner, and
were glad enough to get even that. The hippopotamus, however,
floated during the night, and was found about a mile below. The
Banyai then assembled on the bank, and disputed our right to the
beast: "It might have been shot by somebody else." Our men took a
little of it and then left it, rather than come into collision with
them.

A fine waterbuck was shot in the Kakolole narrows, at Mount
Manyerere; it dropped beside the creek where it was feeding; an
enormous crocodile, that had been watching it at the moment, seized
and dragged it into the water, which was not very deep. The mortally
wounded animal made a desperate plunge, and hauling the crocodile
several yards tore itself out of the hideous jaws. To escape the
hunter, the waterbuck jumped into the river, and was swimming across,
when another crocodile gave chase, but a ball soon sent it to the
bottom. The waterbuck swam a little longer, the fine head dropped,
the body turned over, and one of the canoes dragged it ashore. Below
Kakolole, and still at the base of Manyerere mountain, several coal-
seams, not noticed on our ascent, were now seen to crop out on the
right bank of the Zambesi.

Chitora, of Chicova, treated us with his former hospitality. Our men
were all much pleased with his kindness, and certainly did not look
upon it as a proof of weakness. They meant to return his
friendliness when they came this way on a marauding expedition to eat
the sheep of the Banyai, for insulting them in the affair of the
hippopotamus; they would then send word to Chitora not to run away,
for they, being his friends, would do such a good-hearted man no
harm.

We entered Kebrabasa rapids, at the east end of Chicova, in the
canoes, and went down a number of miles, until the river narrowed
into a groove of fifty or sixty yards wide, of which we have already
spoken in describing the flood-bed and channel of low water. The
navigation then became difficult and dangerous. A fifteen feet fall
of the water in our absence had developed many cataracts. Two of our
canoes passed safely down a narrow channel, which, bifurcating, had
an ugly whirlpool at the rocky partition between the two branches,
the deep hole in the whirls at times opening and then shutting. The
Doctor's canoe came next, and seemed to be drifting broadside into
the open vortex, in spite of the utmost exertions of the paddlers.
The rest were expecting to have to pull to the rescue; the men
saying, "Look where these people are going!--look, look!"--when a
loud crash burst on our ears. Dr. Kirk's canoe was dashed on a
projection of the perpendicular rocks, by a sudden and mysterious
boiling up of the river, which occurs at irregular intervals. Dr.
Kirk was seen resisting the sucking-down action of the water, which
must have been fifteen fathoms deep, and raising himself by his arms
on to the ledge, while his steersman, holding on to the same rocks,
saved the canoe; but nearly all its contents were swept away down the
stream. Dr. Livingstone's canoe, meanwhile, which had distracted the
men's attention, was saved by the cavity in the whirlpool filling up
as the frightful eddy was reached. A few of the things in Dr. Kirk's
canoe were left; but all that was valuable, including a chronometer,
a barometer, and, to our great sorrow, his notes of the journey and
botanical drawings of the fruit-trees of the interior, perished.

We now left the river, and proceeded on foot, sorry that we had not
done so the day before. The men were thoroughly frightened, they had
never seen such perilous navigation. They would carry all the loads,
rather than risk Kebrabasa any longer; but the fatigue of a day's
march over the hot rocks and burning sand changed their tune before
night; and then they regretted having left the canoes; they thought
they should have dragged them past the dangerous places, and then
launched them again. One of the two donkeys died from exhaustion
near the Luia. Though the men eat zebras and quaggas, blood
relations of the donkey, they were shocked at the idea of eating the
ass; "it would be like eating man himself, because the donkey lives
with man, and is his bosom companion." We met two large trading
parties of Tette slaves on their way to Zumbo, leading, to be sold
for ivory, a number of Manganja women, with ropes round their necks,
and all made fast to one long rope.

Panzo, the headman of the village east of Kebrabasa, received us with
great kindness. After the usual salutation he went up the hill, and,
in a loud voice, called across the valley to the women of several
hamlets to cook supper for us. About eight in the evening he
returned, followed by a procession of women, bringing the food.
There were eight dishes of nsima, or porridge, six of different sorts
of very good wild vegetables, with dishes of beans and fowls; all
deliciously well cooked, and scrupulously clean. The wooden dishes
were nearly as white as the meal itself: food also was brought for
our men. Ripe mangoes, which usually indicate the vicinity of the
Portuguese, were found on the 21st November; and we reached Tette
early on the 23rd, having been absent a little over six months.

The two English sailors, left in charge of the steamer, were well,
had behaved well, and had enjoyed excellent health all the time we
were away. Their farm had been a failure. We left a few sheep, to
be slaughtered when they wished for fresh meat, and two dozen fowls.
Purchasing more, they soon had double the number of the latter, and
anticipated a good supply of eggs; but they also bought two monkeys,
and THEY ate all the eggs. A hippopotamus came up one night, and
laid waste their vegetable garden; the sheep broke into their cotton
patch, when it was in flower, and ate it all, except the stems; then
the crocodiles carried off the sheep, and the natives stole the
fowls. Nor were they more successful as gun-smiths: a Portuguese
trader, having an exalted opinion of the ingenuity of English
sailors, showed them a double-barrelled rifle, and inquired if they
could put on the BROWNING, which had rusted off. "I think I knows
how," said one, whose father was a blacksmith, "it's very easy; you
have only to put the barrels in the fire." A great fire of wood was
made on shore, and the unlucky barrels put over it, to secure the
handsome rifle colour. To Jack's utter amazement the barrels came
asunder. To get out of the scrape, his companion and he stuck the
pieces together with resin, and sent it to the owner, with the
message, "It was all they could do for it, and they would not charge
him anything for the job!" They had also invented an original mode
of settling a bargain; having ascertained the market price of
provisions, they paid that, but no more. If the traders refused to
leave the ship till the price was increased, a chameleon, of which
the natives have a mortal dread, was brought out of the cabin; and
the moment the natives saw the creature, they at once sprang
overboard. The chameleon settled every dispute in a twinkling.

But besides their good-humoured intercourse, they showed humanity
worthy of English sailors. A terrible scream roused them up one
night, and they pushed off in a boat to the rescue. A crocodile had
caught a woman, and was dragging her across a shallow sandbank. Just
as they came up to her, she gave a fearful shriek: the horrid
reptile had snapped off her leg at the knee. They took her on board,
bandaged the limb as well as they could, and, not thinking of any
better way of showing their sympathy, gave her a glass of rum, and
carried her to a hut in the village. Next morning they found the
bandages torn off, and the unfortunate creature left to die. "I
believe," remarked Rowe, one of the sailors, "her master was angry
with us for saving her life, seeing as how she had lost her leg."

The Zambesi being unusually low, we remained at Tette till it rose a
little, and then left on the 3rd of December for the Kongone. It was
hard work to keep the vessel afloat; indeed, we never expected her to
remain above water. New leaks broke out every day; the engine pump
gave way; the bridge broke down; three compartments filled at night;
except the cabin and front compartment all was flooded; and in a few
days we were assured by Rowe that "she can't be worse than she is,
sir." He and Hutchins had spent much of their time, while we were
away, in patching her bottom, puddling it with clay, and shoring it,
and it was chiefly to please them that we again attempted to make use
of her. We had long been fully convinced that the steel plates were
thoroughly unsuitable. On the morning of the 21st the uncomfortable
"Asthmatic" grounded on a sandbank and filled. She could neither be
emptied nor got off. The river rose during the night, and all that
was visible of the worn-out craft next day was about six feet of her
two masts. Most of the property we had on board was saved; and we
spent the Christmas of 1860 encamped on the island of Chimba. Canoes
were sent for from Senna; and we reached it on the 27th, to be again
hospitably entertained by our friend, Senhor Ferrao.

We reached the Kongone on the 4th of January, 1861. A flagstaff and
a Custom-house had been erected during our absence; a hut, also, for
a black lance-corporal and three privates. By the kind permission of
the lance-corporal, who came to see us as soon as he had got into his
trousers and shirt, we took up our quarters in the Custom-house,
which, like the other buildings, is a small square floorless hut of
mangrove stakes overlaid with reeds. The soldiers complained of
hunger, they had nothing to eat but a little mapira, and were making
palm wine to deaden their cravings. While waiting for a ship, we had
leisure to read the newspapers and periodicals we found in the mail
which was waiting our arrival at Tette. Several were a year and a
half old.

Our provisions began to run short; and towards the end of the month
there was nothing left but a little bad biscuit and a few ounces of
sugar. Coffee and tea were expended, but scarcely missed, as our
sailors discovered a pretty good substitute in roasted mapira. Fresh
meat was obtained in abundance from our antelope preserves on the
large island made by a creek between the Kongone and East Luabo.

In this focus of decaying vegetation, nothing is so much to be
dreaded as inactivity. We had, therefore, to find what exercise and
amusement we could, when hunting was not required, in peering about
in the fetid swamps; to have gone mooning about, in listless
idleness, would have ensured fever in its worst form, and probably
with fatal results.

A curious little blenny-fish swarms in the numerous creeks which
intersect the mangrove topes. When alarmed, it hurries across the
surface of the water in a series of leaps. It may be considered
amphibious, as it lives as much out of the water as in it, and its
most busy time is during low water. Then it appears on the sand or
mud, near the little pools left by the retiring tide; it raises
itself on its pectoral fins into something of a standing attitude,
and with its large projecting eyes keeps a sharp look-out for the
light-coloured fly, on which it feeds. Should the fly alight at too
great a distance for even a second leap, the blenny moves slowly
towards it like a cat to its prey, or like a jumping spider; and, as
soon as it gets within two or three inches of the insect, by a sudden
spring contrives to pop its underset mouth directly over the unlucky
victim. He is, moreover, a pugnacious little fellow; and rather
prolonged fights may be observed between him and his brethren. One,
in fleeing from an apparent danger, jumped into a pool a foot square,
which the other evidently regarded as his by right of prior
discovery; in a twinkling the owner, with eyes flashing fury, and
with dorsal fin bristling up in rage, dashed at the intruding foe.
The fight waxed furious, no tempest in a teapot ever equalled the
storm of that miniature sea. The warriors were now in the water, and
anon out of it, for the battle raged on sea and shore. They struck
hard, they bit each other; until, becoming exhausted, they seized
each other by the jaws like two bull-dogs, then paused for breath,
and at it again as fiercely as before, until the combat ended by the
precipitate retreat of the invader.

The muddy ground under the mangrove-trees is covered with soldier-
crabs, which quickly slink into their holes on any symptom of danger.
When the ebbing tide retires, myriads of minute crabs emerge from
their underground quarters, and begin to work like so many busy bees.
Soon many miles of the smooth sand become rough with the results of
their labour. They are toiling for their daily bread: a round bit
of moist sand appears at the little labourer's mouth, and is quickly
brushed off by one of the claws; a second bit follows the first; and
another, and still another come as fast as they can be laid aside.
As these pellets accumulate, the crab moves sideways, and the work
continues. The first impression one receives is, that the little
creature has swallowed a great deal of sand, and is getting rid of it
as speedily as possible: a habit he indulges in of darting into his
hole at intervals, as if for fresh supplies, tends to strengthen this
idea; but the size of the heaps formed in a few seconds shows that
this cannot be the case, and leads to the impression that, although
not readily seen, at the distance at which he chooses to keep the
observer, yet that possibly he raises the sand to his mouth, where
whatever animalcule it may contain is sifted out of it, and the
remainder rejected in the manner described. At times the larger
species of crabs perform a sort of concert; and from each
subterranean abode strange sounds arise, as if, in imitation of the
songsters of the groves, for very joy they sang!

We found some natives pounding the woody stems of a poisonous
climbing-plant (Dirca palustris) called Busungu, or poison, which
grows abundantly in the swamps. When a good quantity was bruised, it
was tied up in bundles. The stream above and below was obstructed
with bushes, and with a sort of rinsing motion the poison was
diffused through the water. Many fish were soon affected, swain in
shore, and died, others were only stupefied. The plant has pink,
pea-shaped blossoms, and smooth, pointed, glossy leaves, and the
brown bark is covered with minute white points. The knowledge of it
might prove of use to a shipwrecked party by enabling them to catch
the fish.

The poison is said to be deleterious to man if the water is drunk;
but not when the fish is cooked. The Busungu is repulsive to some
insects, and is smeared round the shoots of the palm-trees to prevent
the ants from getting into the palm wine while it is dropping from
the tops of the palm-trees into the little pots suspended to collect
it.

We were in the habit of walking from our beds into the salt water at
sunrise, for a bath, till a large crocodile appeared at the bathing-
place, and from that time forth we took our dip in the sea, away from
the harbour, about midday. This is said to be unwholesome, but we
did not find it so. It is certainly better not to bathe in the
mornings, when the air is colder than the water--for then, on
returning to the cooler air, one is apt to get a chill and fever. In
the mouth of the river, many saw-fish are found. Rowe saw one while
bathing--caught it by the tail, and shoved it, "snout on," ashore.
The saw is from a foot to eighteen inches long. We never heard of
any one being wounded by this fish; nor, though it goes hundreds of
miles up the river in fresh water, could we learn that it was eaten
by the people. The hippopotami delighted to spend the day among the
breakers, and seemed to enjoy the fun as much as we did.

Severe gales occurred during our stay on the Coast, and many small
sea-birds (Prion Banksii, Smith) perished: the beach was strewn with
their dead bodies, and some were found hundreds of yards inland; many
were so emaciated as to dry up without putrefying. We were plagued
with myriads of mosquitoes, and had some touches of fever; the men we
brought from malarious regions of the interior suffered almost as
much from it here as we did ourselves. This gives strength to the
idea that the civilized withstand the evil influences of strange
climates better than the uncivilized. When negroes return to their
own country from healthy lands, they suffer as severely as foreigners
ever do.

On the 31st of January, 1861, our new ship, the "Pioneer," arrived
from England, and anchored outside the bar; but the weather was
stormy, and she did not venture in till the 4th of February.

Two of H.M. cruisers came at the same time, bringing Bishop
Mackenzie, and the Oxford and Cambridge Mission to the tribes of the
Shire and Lake Nyassa. The Mission consisted of six Englishmen, and
five coloured men from the Cape. It was a puzzle to know what to do
with so many men. The estimable Bishop, anxious to commence his work
without delay, wished the "Pioneer" to carry the Mission up the
Shire, as far as Chibisa's, and there leave them. But there were
grave objections to this. The "Pioneer" was under orders to explore
the Rovuma, as the Portuguese Government had refused to open the
Zambesi to the ships of other nations, and their officials were very
effectually pursuing a system, which, by abstracting the labour, was
rendering the country of no value either to foreigners or to
themselves. She was already two months behind her time, and the
rainy season was half over. Then, if the party were taken to
Chibisa's, the Mission would he left without a medical attendant, in
an unhealthy region, at the beginning of the most sickly season of
the year, and without means of reaching the healthy highlands, or of
returning to the sea. We dreaded that, in the absence of medical aid
and all knowledge of the treatment of fever, there might be a
repetition of the sorrowful fate which befell the similar non-medical
Mission at Linyanti.

On the 25th of February the "Pioneer" anchored in the mouth of the
Rovuma, which, unlike most African rivers, has a magnificent bay and
no bar. We wooded, and then waited for the Bishop till the 9th of
March, when he came in the "Lyra." On the 11th we proceeded up the
river, and saw that it had fallen four or five feet during our
detention. The scenery on the lower part of the Rovuma is superior
to that on the Zambesi, for we can see the highlands from the sea.
Eight miles from the mouth the mangroves are left behind, and a
beautiful range of well-wooded hills on each bank begins. On these
ridges the tree resembling African blackwood, of finer grain than
ebony, grows abundantly, and attains a large size. Few people were
seen, and those were of Arab breed, and did not appear to be very
well off. The current of the Rovuma was now as strong as that of the
Zambesi, but the volume of water is very much less. Several of the
crossings had barely water enough for our ship, drawing five feet, to
pass. When we were thirty miles up the river, the water fell
suddenly seven inches in twenty-four hours. As the March flood is
the last of the season, and it appeared to be expended, it was
thought prudent to avoid the chance of a year's detention, by getting
the ship back to the sea without delay. Had the Expedition been
alone, we would have pushed up in boats, or afoot, and done what we
could towards the exploration of the river and upper end of the lake;
but, though the Mission was a private one, and entirely distinct from
our own, a public one, the objects of both being similar, we felt
anxious to aid our countrymen in their noble enterprise; and, rather
than follow our own inclination, decided to return to the Shire, see
the Mission party settled safely, and afterwards explore Lake Nyassa
and the Rovuma, from the Lake downwards. Fever broke out on board
the "Pioneer," at the mouth of the Rovuma, as we thought from our
having anchored close to a creek coming out of the mangroves; and it
remained in her until we completely isolated the engine-room from the
rest of the ship. The coal-dust rotting sent out strong effluvia,
and kept up the disease for more than a twelvemonth.

Soon after we started the fever put the "Pioneer" almost entirely
into the hands of the original Zambesi Expedition, and not long
afterwards the leader had to navigate the ocean as well as the river.
The habit of finding the geographical positions on land renders it an
easy task to steer a steamer with only three or four sails at sea;
where, if one does not run ashore, no one follows to find out an
error, and where a current affords a ready excuse for every blunder.

Touching at Mohilla, one of the Comoro Islands, on our return, we
found a mixed race of Arabs, Africans, and their conquerors, the
natives of Madagascar. Being Mahometans, they have mosques and
schools, in which we were pleased to see girls as well as boys taught
to read the Koran. The teacher said he was paid by the job, and
received ten dollars for teaching each child to read. The clever
ones learn in six months; but the dull ones take a couple of years.
We next went over to Johanna for our friends; and, after a sojourn of
a few days at the beautiful Comoro Islands, we sailed for the Kongone
mouth of the Zambesi with Bishop Mackenzie and his party. We reached
the coast in seven days, and passed up the Zambesi to the Shire.

The "Pioneer," constructed under the skilful supervision of Admiral
Sir Baldwin Walker and the late Admiral Washington, warm-hearted and
highly esteemed friends of the Expedition, was a very superior
vessel, and well suited for our work in every respect, except in her
draught of water. Five feet were found to be too much for the
navigation of the upper part of the Shire. Designed to draw three
feet only, the weight necessary to impart extra strength, and fit her
for the ocean, brought her down two feet more, and caused us a great
deal of hard and vexatious work, in laying out anchors, and toiling
at the capstan to get her off sandbanks. We should not have minded
this much, but for the heavy loss of time which might have been more
profitably, and infinitely more pleasantly, spent in intercourse with
the people, exploring new regions, and otherwise carrying out the
objects of the Expedition. Once we were a fortnight on a bank of
soft yielding sand, having only two or three inches less water than
the ship drew; this delay was occasioned by the anchors coming home,
and the current swinging the ship broadside on the bank, which,
immediately on our touching, always formed behind us. We did not
like to leave the ship short of Chibisa's, lest the crew should
suffer from the malaria of the lowland around; and it would have been
difficult to have got the Mission goods carried up. We were daily
visited by crowds of natives, who brought us abundance of provisions
far beyond our ability to consume. In hauling the "Pioneer" over the
shallow places, the Bishop, with Horace Waller and Mr. Scudamore,
were ever ready and anxious to lend a hand, and worked as hard as any
on board. Had our fine little ship drawn but three feet, she could
have run up and down the river at any time of the year with the
greatest ease, but as it was, having once passed up over a few
shallow banks, it was impossible to take her down again until the
river rose in December. She could go up over a bank, but not come
down over it, as a heap of sand always formed instantly astern, while
the current washed it away from under her bows.

On at last reaching Chibisa's, we heard that there was war in the
Manganja country, and the slave-trade was going on briskly. A
deputation from a chief near Mount Zomba had just passed on its way
to Chibisa, who was in a distant village, to implore him to come
himself, or send medicine, to drive off the Waiao, Waiau, or Ajawa,
whose marauding parties were desolating the land. A large gang of
recently enslaved Manganja crossed the river, on their way to Tette,
a few days before we got the ship up. Chibisa's deputy was civil,
and readily gave us permission to hire as many men to carry the
Bishop's goods up to the hills as were willing to go. With a
sufficient number, therefore, we started for the highlands on the
15th of July, to show the Bishop the country, which, from its
altitude and coolness, was most suitable for a station. Our first
day's march was a long and fatiguing one. The few hamlets we passed
were poor, and had no food for our men, and we were obliged to go on
till 4 p.m., when we entered the small village of Chipindu. The
inhabitants complained of hunger, and said they had no food to sell,
and no hut for us to sleep in; but, if we would only go on a little
further, we should come to a village where they had plenty to eat;
but we had travelled far enough, and determined to remain where we
were. Before sunset as much food was brought as we cared to
purchase, and, as it threatened to rain, huts were provided for the
whole party.

Next forenoon we halted at the village of our old friend Mbame, to
obtain new carriers, because Chibisa's men, never before having been
hired, and not having yet learned to trust us, did not choose to go
further. After resting a little, Mbame told us that a slave party on
its way to Tette would presently pass through his village. "Shall we
interfere?" we inquired of each other. We remembered that all our
valuable private baggage was in Tette, which, if we freed the slaves,
might, together with some Government property, be destroyed in
retaliation; but this system of slave-hunters dogging us where
previously they durst not venture, and, on pretence of being "our
children," setting one tribe against another, to furnish themselves
with slaves, would so inevitably thwart all the efforts, for which we
had the sanction of the Portuguese Government, that we resolved to
run all risks, and put a stop, if possible, to the slave-trade, which
had now followed on the footsteps of our discoveries. A few minutes
after Mbame had spoken to us, the slave party, a long line of
manacled men, women, and children, came wending their way round the
hill and into the valley, on the side of which the village stood.
The black drivers, armed with muskets, and bedecked with various
articles of finery, marched jauntily in the front, middle, and rear
of the line; some of them blowing exultant notes out of long tin
horns. They seemed to feel that they were doing a very noble thing,
and might proudly march with an air of triumph. But the instant the
fellows caught a glimpse of the English, they darted off like mad
into the forest; so fast, indeed, that we caught but a glimpse of
their red caps and the soles of their feet. The chief of the party
alone remained; and he, from being in front, had his hand tightly
grasped by a Makololo! He proved to be a well-known slave of the
late Commandant at Tette, and for some time our own attendant while
there. On asking him how he obtained these captives, he replied he
had bought them; but on our inquiring of the people themselves, all,
save four, said they had been captured in war. While this inquiry
was going on, he bolted too. The captives knelt down, and, in their
way of expressing thanks, clapped their hands with great energy.
They were thus left entirely on our hands, and knives were soon busy
at work cutting the women and children loose. It was more difficult
to cut the men adrift, as each had his neck in the fork of a stout
stick, six or seven feet long, and was kept in by an iron rod which
was riveted at both ends across the throat. With a saw, luckily in
the Bishop's baggage, one by one the men were sawn out into freedom.
The women, on being told to take the meal they were carrying and cook
breakfast for themselves and the children, seemed to consider the
news too good to be true; but after a little coaxing went at it with
alacrity, and made a capital fire by which to boil their pots with
the slave sticks and bonds, their old acquaintances through many a
sad night and weary day. Many were mere children about five years of
age and under. One little boy, with the simplicity of childhood,
said to our men, "The others tied and starved us, you cut the ropes
and tell us to eat; what sort of people are you?--Where did you come
from?" Two of the women had been shot the day before for attempting
to untie the thongs. This, the rest were told, was to prevent them
from attempting to escape. One woman had her infant's brains knocked
out, because she could not carry her load and it. And a man was
dispatched with an axe, because he had broken down with fatigue.
Self-interest would have set a watch over the whole rather than
commit murder; but in this traffic we invariably find self-interest
overcome by contempt of human life and by bloodthirstiness.

The Bishop was not present at this scene, having gone to bathe in a
little stream below the village; but on his return he warmly approved
of what had been done; he at first had doubts, but now felt that, had
he been present, he would have joined us in the good work. Logic is
out of place when the question with a true-hearted man is, whether
his brother man is to be saved or not. Eighty-four, chiefly women
and children, were liberated; and on being told that they were now
free, and might go where they pleased, or remain with us, they all
chose to stay; and the Bishop wisely attached them to his Mission, to
be educated as members of a Christian family. In this way a great
difficulty in the commencement of a Mission was overcome. Years are
usually required before confidence is so far instilled into the
natives' mind as to induce them, young or old, to submit to the
guidance of strangers professing to be actuated by motives the
reverse of worldly wisdom, and inculcating customs strange and
unknown to them and their fathers.

We proceeded next morning to Soche's with our liberated party, the
men cheerfully carrying the Bishop's goods. As we had begun, it was
of no use to do things by halves, so eight others were freed in a
hamlet on our path; but a party of traders, with nearly a hundred
slaves, fled from Soche's on hearing of our proceedings. Dr. Kirk
and four Makololo followed them with great energy, but they made
clear off to Tette. Six more captives were liberated at Mongazi's,
and two slave-traders detained for the night, to prevent them from
carrying information to a large party still in front. Of their own
accord they volunteered the information that the Governor's servants
had charge of the next party; but we did not choose to be led by
them, though they offered to guide us to his Excellency's own agents.
Two of the Bishop's black men from the Cape, having once been slaves,
were now zealous emancipators, and volunteered to guard the prisoners
during the night. So anxious were our heroes to keep them safe, that
instead of relieving each other, by keeping watch and watch, both
kept watch together, till towards four o'clock in the morning, when
sleep stole gently over them both; and the wakeful prisoners, seizing
the opportunity, escaped: one of the guards, perceiving the loss,
rushed out of the hut, shouting, "They are gone, the prisoners are
off, and they have taken my rifle with them, and the women too!
Fire! everybody fire!" The rifle and the women, however, were all
safe enough, the slave-traders being only too glad to escape alone.
Fifty more slaves were freed next day in another village; and, the
whole party being stark-naked, cloth enough was left to clothe them,
better probably than they had ever been clothed before. The head of
this gang, whom we knew as the agent of one of the principal
merchants of Tette, said that they had the license of the Governor
for all they did. This we were fully aware of without his stating
it. It is quite impossible for any enterprise to be undertaken there
without the Governor's knowledge and connivance.

The portion of the highlands which the Bishop wished to look at
before deciding on a settlement belonged to Chiwawa, or Chibaba, the
most manly and generous Manganja chief we had met with on our
previous journey. On reaching Nsambo's, near Mount Chiradzuru, we
heard that Chibaba was dead, and that Chigunda was chief instead.
Chigunda, apparently of his own accord, though possibly he may have
learnt that the Bishop intended to settle somewhere in the country,
asked him to come and live with him at Magomero, adding that there
was room enough for both. This hearty and spontaneous invitation had
considerable influence on the Bishop's mind, and seemed to decide the
question. A place nearer the Shire would have been chosen had he
expected his supplies to come up that river; but the Portuguese,
claiming the river Shire, though never occupying even its mouth, had
closed it, as well as the Zambesi.

Our hopes were turned to the Rovuma, as a free highway into Lake
Nyassa and the vast interior. A steamer was already ordered for the
Lake, and the Bishop, seeing the advantageous nature of the highlands
which stretch an immense way to the north, was more anxious to be
near the Lake and the Rovuma, than the Shire. When he decided to
settle at Magomero, it was thought desirable, to prevent the country
from being depopulated, to visit the Ajawa chief, and to try and
persuade him to give up his slaving and kidnapping courses, and turn
the energies of his people to peaceful pursuits.

On the morning of the 22nd we were informed that the Ajawa were near,
and were burning a village a few miles off. Leaving the rescued
slaves, we moved off to seek an interview with these scourges of the
country. On our way we met crowds of Manganja fleeing from the war
in front. These poor fugitives from the slave hunt had, as usual, to
leave all the food they possessed, except the little they could carry
on their heads. We passed field after field of Indian corn or beans,
standing ripe for harvesting, but the owners were away. The villages
were all deserted: one where we breakfasted two years before, and
saw a number of men peacefully weaving cloth, and, among ourselves,
called it the "Paisley of the hills," was burnt; the stores of corn
were poured out in cartloads, and scattered all over the plain, and
all along the paths, neither conquerors nor conquered having been
able to convey it away. About two o'clock we saw the smoke of
burning villages, and heard triumphant shouts, mingled with the wail
of the Manganja women, lamenting over their slain. The Bishop then
engaged us in fervent prayer; and, on rising from our knees, we saw a
long line of Ajawa warriors, with their captives, coming round the
hill-side. The first of the returning conquerors were entering their
own village below, and we heard women welcoming them back with
"lillilooings." The Ajawa headman left the path on seeing us, and
stood on an anthill to obtain a complete view of our party. We
called out that we had come to have an interview with them, but some
of the Manganja who followed us shouted "Our Chibisa is come:"
Chibisa being well known as a great conjurer and general. The Ajawa
ran off yelling and screaming, "Nkondo! Nkondo!" (War! War!) We
heard the words of the Manganja, but they did not strike us at the
moment as neutralizing all our assertions of peace. The captives
threw down their loads on the path, and fled to the hills: and a
large body of armed men came running up from the village, and in a
few seconds they were all around us, though mostly concealed by the
projecting rocks and long grass. In vain we protested that we had
not come to fight, but to talk with them. They would not listen,
having, as we remembered afterwards, good reason, in the cry of "Our
Chibisa." Flushed with recent victory over three villages, and
confident of an easy triumph over a mere handful of men, they began
to shoot their poisoned arrows, sending them with great force upwards
of a hundred yards, and wounding one of our followers through the
arm. Our retiring slowly up the ascent from the village only made
them more eager to prevent our escape; and, in the belief that this
retreat was evidence of fear, they closed upon us in bloodthirsty
fury. Some came within fifty yards, dancing hideously; others having
quite surrounded us, and availing themselves of the rocks and long
grass hard by, were intent on cutting us off, while others made off
with their women and a large body of slaves. Four were armed with
muskets, and we were obliged in self-defence to return their fire and
drive them off. When they saw the range of rifles, they very soon
desisted, and ran away; but some shouted to us from the hills the
consoling intimation, that they would follow, and kill us where we
slept. Only two of the captives escaped to us, but probably most of
those made prisoners that day fled elsewhere in the confusion. We
returned to the village which we had left in the morning, after a
hungry, fatiguing, and most unpleasant day.

Though we could not blame ourselves for the course we had followed,
we felt sorry for what had happened. It was the first time we had
ever been attacked by the natives or come into collision with them;
though we had always taken it for granted that we might be called
upon to act in self-defence, we were on this occasion less prepared
than usual, no game having been expected here. The men had only a
single round of cartridge each; their leader had no revolver, and the
rifle he usually fired with was left at the ship to save it from the
damp of the season. Had we known better the effect of slavery and
murder on the temper of these bloodthirsty marauders, we should have
tried messages and presents before going near them.

The old chief, Chinsunse, came on a visit to us next day, and pressed
the Bishop to come and live with him. "Chigunda," he said, "is but a
child, and the Bishop ought to live with the father rather than with
the child." But the old man's object was so evidently to have the
Mission as a shield against the Ajawa, that his invitation was
declined. While begging us to drive away the marauders, that he
might live in peace, he adopted the stratagem of causing a number of
his men to rush into the village, in breathless haste, with the news
that the Ajawa were close upon us. And having been reminded that we
never fought, unless attacked, as we were the day before, and that we
had come among them for the purpose of promoting peace, and of
teaching them to worship the Supreme, to give up selling His
children, and to cultivate other objects for barter than each other,
he replied, in a huff, "Then I am dead already."

The Bishop, feeling, as most Englishmen would, at the prospect of the
people now in his charge being swept off into slavery by hordes of
men-stealers, proposed to go at once to the rescue of the captive
Manganja, and drive the marauding Ajawa out of the country. All were
warmly in favour of this, save Dr. Livingstone, who opposed it on the
ground that it would be better for the Bishop to wait, and see the
effect of the check the slave-hunters had just experienced. The
Ajawa were evidently goaded on by Portuguese agents from Tette, and
there was no bond of union among the Manganja on which to work. It
was possible that the Ajawa might be persuaded to something better,
though, from having long been in the habit of slaving for the
Quillimane market, it was not very probable. But the Manganja could
easily be overcome piecemeal by any enemy; old feuds made them glad
to see calamities befall their next neighbours. We counselled them
to unite against the common enemies of their country, and added
distinctly that we English would on no account enter into their
quarrels. On the Bishop inquiring whether, in the event of the
Manganja again asking aid against the Ajawa, it would be his duty to
accede to their request,--"No," replied Dr. Livingstone, "you will be
oppressed by their importunities, but do not interfere in native
quarrels." This advice the good man honourably mentions in his
journal. We have been rather minute in relating what occurred during
the few days of our connection with the Mission of the English
Universities, on the hills, because, the recorded advice having been
discarded, blame was thrown on Dr. Livingstone's shoulders, as if the
missionaries had no individual responsibility for their subsequent
conduct. This, unquestionably, good Bishop Mackenzie had too much
manliness to have allowed. The connection of the members of the
Zambesi Expedition, with the acts of the Bishop's Mission, now
ceased, for we returned to the ship and prepared for our journey to
Lake Nyassa. We cheerfully, if necessary, will bear all
responsibility up to this point; and if the Bishop afterwards made
mistakes in certain collisions with the slavers, he had the votes of
all his party with him, and those who best knew the peculiar
circumstances, and the loving disposition of this good-hearted man,
will blame him least. In this position, and in these circumstances,
we left our friends at the Mission Station.

As a temporary measure the Bishop decided to place his Mission
Station on a small promontory formed by the windings of the little,
clear stream of Magomero, which was so cold that the limbs were quite
benumbed by washing in it in the July mornings. The site chosen was
a pleasant spot to the eye, and completely surrounded by stately,
shady trees. It was expected to serve for a residence, till the
Bishop had acquired an accurate knowledge of the adjacent country,
and of the political relations of the people, and could select a
healthy and commanding situation, as a permanent centre of Christian
civilization. Everything promised fairly. The weather was
delightful, resembling the pleasantest part of an English summer;
provisions poured in very cheap and in great abundance. The Bishop,
with characteristic ardour, commenced learning the language, Mr.
Waller began building, and Mr. Scudamore improvised a sort of infant
school for the children, than which there is no better means for
acquiring an unwritten tongue.

On the 6th of August, 1861, a few days after returning from Magomero,
Drs. Livingstone and Kirk, and Charles Livingstone started for Nyassa
with a light four-oared gig, a white sailor, and a score of
attendants. We hired people along the path to carry the boat past
the forty miles of the Murchison Cataracts for a cubit of cotton
cloth a day. This being deemed great wages, more than twice the men
required eagerly offered their services. The chief difficulty was in
limiting their numbers. Crowds followed us; and, had we not taken
down in the morning the names of the porters engaged, in the evening
claims would have been made by those who only helped during the last
ten minutes of the journey. The men of one village carried the boat
to the next, and all we had to do was to tell the headman that we
wanted fresh men in the morning. He saw us pay the first party, and
had his men ready at the time appointed, so there was no delay in
waiting for carriers. They often make a loud noise when carrying
heavy loads, but talking and bawling does not put them out of breath.
The country was rough and with little soil on it, but covered with
grass and open forest. A few small trees were cut down to clear a
path for our shouting assistants, who were good enough to consider
the boat as a certificate of peaceful intentions at least to them.
Several small streams were passed, the largest of which were the
Mukuru-Madse and Lesungwe. The inhabitants on both banks were now
civil and obliging. Our possession of a boat, and consequent power
of crossing independently of the canoes, helped to develop their good
manners, which were not apparent on our previous visit.

There is often a surprising contrast between neighbouring villages.
One is well off and thriving, having good huts, plenty of food, and
native cloth; and its people are frank, trusty, generous, and eager
to sell provisions; while in the next the inhabitants may be ill-
housed, disobliging, suspicious, ill-fed, and scantily clad, and with
nothing for sale, though the land around is as fertile as that of
their wealthier neighbours. We followed the river for the most part
to avail ourselves of the still reaches for sailing; but a
comparatively smooth country lies further inland, over which a good
road could be made. Some of the five main cataracts are very grand,
the river falling 1200 feet in the 40 miles. After passing the last
of the cataracts, we launched our boat for good on the broad and deep
waters of the Upper Shire, and were virtually on the lake, for the
gentle current shows but little difference of level. The bed is
broad and deep, but the course is rather tortuous at first, and makes
a long bend to the east till it comes within five or six miles of the
base of Mount Zomba. The natives regarded the Upper Shire as a
prolongation of Lake Nyassa; for where what we called the river
approaches Lake Shirwa, a little north of the mountains, they said
that the hippopotami, "which are great night travellers," pass from
ONE LAKE INTO THE OTHER. There the land is flat, and only a short
land journey would be necessary. Seldom does the current here exceed
a knot an hour, while that of the Lower Shire is from two to two-and-
a-half knots. Our land party of Makololo accompanied us along the
right bank, and passed thousands of Manganja fugitives living in
temporary huts on that side, who had recently been driven from their
villages on the opposite hills by the Ajawa.

The soil was dry and hard, and covered with mopane-trees; but some of
the Manganja were busy hoeing the ground and planting the little corn
they had brought with them. The effects of hunger were already
visible on those whose food had been seized or burned by the Ajawa
and Portuguese slave-traders. The spokesman or prime minister of one
of the chiefs, named Kalonjere, was a humpbacked dwarf, a fluent
speaker, who tried hard to make us go over and drive off the Ajawa;
but he could not deny that by selling people Kalonjere had invited
these slave-hunters to the country. This is the second humpbacked
dwarf we have found occupying the like important post, the other was
the prime minister of a Batonga chief on the Zambesi.

As we sailed along, we disturbed many white-breasted cormorants; we
had seen the same species fishing between the cataracts. Here, with
many other wild-fowls, they find subsistence on the smooth water by
night, and sit sleepily on trees and in the reeds by day. Many
hippopotami were seen in the river, and one of them stretched its
wide jaws, as if to swallow the whole stern of the boat, close to Dr.
Kirk's back; the animal was so near that, in opening its mouth, it
lashed a quantity of water on to the stern-sheets, but did no damage.
To avoid large marauding parties of Ajawa, on the left bank of the
Shire, we continued on the right, or western side, with our land
party, along the shore of the small lake Pamalombe. This lakelet is
ten or twelve miles in length, and five or six broad. It is nearly
surrounded by a broad belt of papyrus, so dense that we could
scarcely find an opening to the shore. The plants, ten or twelve
feet high, grew so closely together that air was excluded, and so
much sulphuretted hydrogen gas evolved that by one night's exposure
the bottom of the boat was blackened. Myriads of mosquitoes showed,
as probably they always do, the presence of malaria.

We hastened from this sickly spot, trying to take the attentions of
the mosquitoes as hints to seek more pleasant quarters on the healthy
shores of Lake Nyassa; and when we sailed into it, on the 2nd
September, we felt refreshed by the greater coolness of the air off
this large body of water. The depth was the first point of interest.
This is indicated by the colour of the water, which, on a belt along
the shore, varying from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, is light
green, and this is met by the deep blue or indigo tint of the Indian
Ocean, which is the colour of the great body of Nyassa. We found the
Upper Shire from nine to fifteen feet in depth; but skirting the
western side of the lake about a mile from the shore the water
deepened from nine to fifteen fathoms; then, as we rounded the grand
mountainous promontory, which we named Cape Maclear, after our
excellent friend the Astronomer Royal at the Cape of Good Hope, we
could get no bottom with our lead-line of thirty-five fathoms. We
pulled along the western shore, which was a succession of bays, and
found that where the bottom was sandy near the beach, and to a mile
out, the depth varied from six to fourteen fathoms. In a rocky bay
about latitude 11 degrees 40 minutes we had soundings at 100 fathoms,
though outside the same bay we found none with a fishing-line of 116
fathoms; but this cast was unsatisfactory, as the line broke in
coming up. According to our present knowledge, a ship could anchor
only near the shore.

Looking back to the southern end of Lake Nyassa, the arm from which
the Shire flows was found to be about thirty miles long and from ten
to twelve broad. Rounding Cape Maclear, and looking to the south-
west, we have another arm, which stretches some eighteen miles
southward, and is from six to twelve miles in breadth. These arms
give the southern end a forked appearance, and with the help of a
little imagination it may be likened to the "boot-shape" of Italy.
The narrowest part is about the ankle, eighteen or twenty miles.
From this it widens to the north, and in the upper third or fourth it
is fifty or sixty miles broad. The length is over 200 miles. The
direction in which it lies is as near as possible due north and
south. Nothing of the great bend to the west, shown in all the
previous maps, could be detected by either compass or chronometer,
and the watch we used was an excellent one. The season of the year
was very unfavourable. The "smokes" filled the air with an
impenetrable haze, and the equinoctial gales made it impossible for
us to cross to the eastern side. When we caught a glimpse of the sun
rising from behind the mountains to the east, we made sketches and
bearings of them at different latitudes, which enabled us to secure
approximate measurements of the width. These agreed with the times
taken by the natives at the different crossing-places--as Tsenga and
Molamba. About the beginning of the upper third the lake is crossed
by taking advantage of the island Chizumara, which name in the native
tongue means the "ending;" further north they go round the end
instead, though that takes several days.

The lake appeared to be surrounded by mountains, but it was
afterwards found that these beautiful tree-covered heights were, on
the west, only the edges of high table-lands. Like all narrow seas
encircled by highlands, it is visited by sudden and tremendous
storms. We were on it in September and October, perhaps the
stormiest season of the year, and were repeatedly detained by gales.
At times, while sailing pleasantly over the blue water with a gentle
breeze, suddenly and without any warning was heard the sound of a
coming storm, roaring on with crowds of angry waves in its wake. We
were caught one morning with the sea breaking all around us, and,
unable either to advance or recede, anchored a mile from shore, in
seven fathoms. The furious surf on the beach would have shivered our
boat to atoms, had we tried to land. The waves most dreaded came
rolling on in threes, with their crests, driven into spray, streaming
behind them. A short lull followed each triple charge. Had one of
these seas struck our boat, nothing could have saved us; for they
came on with resistless force; seaward, in shore, and on either side
of us, they broke in foam, but we escaped. For six weary hours we
faced those terrible trios. A low, dark, detached, oddly shaped
cloud came slowly from the mountains, and hung for hours directly
over our heads. A flock of night-jars (Cometornis vexillarius),
which on no other occasion come out by day, soared above us in the
gale, like birds of evil omen. Our black crew became sea-sick and
unable to sit up or keep the boat's head to the sea. The natives and
our land party stood on the high cliffs looking at us and exclaiming,
as the waves seemed to swallow up the boat, "They are lost! they are
all dead!" When at last the gale moderated and we got safely ashore,
they saluted us warmly, as after a long absence. From this time we
trusted implicitly to the opinions of our seaman, John Neil, who,
having been a fisherman on the coast of Ireland, understood boating
on a stormy coast, and by his advice we often sat cowering on the
land for days together waiting for the surf to go down. He had never
seen such waves before. We had to beach the boat every night to save
her from being swamped at anchor; and, did we not believe the gales
to be peculiar to one season of the year, would call Nyassa the "Lake
of Storms."

Distinct white marks on the rocks showed that, for some time during
the rainy season, the water of the lake is three feet above the point
to which it falls towards the close of the dry period of the year.
The rains begin here in November, and the permanent rise of the Shire
does not take place till January. The western side of Lake Nyassa,
with the exception of the great harbour to the west of Cape Maclear,
is, as has been said before, a succession of small bays of nearly
similar form, each having an open sandy beach and pebbly shore, and
being separated from its neighbour by a rocky headland, with detached
rocks extending some distance out to sea. The great south-western
bay referred to would form a magnificent harbour, the only really
good one we saw to the west.

The land immediately adjacent to the lake is low and fertile, though
in some places marshy and tenanted by large flocks of ducks, geese,
herons, crowned cranes, and other birds. In the southern parts we
have sometimes ten or a dozen miles of rich plains, bordered by what
seem high ranges of well-wooded hills, running nearly parallel with
the lake. Northwards the mountains become loftier and present some
magnificent views, range towering beyond range, until the dim, lofty
outlines projected against the sky bound the prospect. Still further
north the plain becomes more narrow, until, near where we turned, it
disappears altogether, and the mountains rise abruptly out of the
lake, forming the north-east boundary of what was described to us as
an extensive table-land; well suited for pasturage and agriculture,
and now only partially occupied by a tribe of Zulus, who came from
the south some years ago. These people own large herds of cattle,
and are constantly increasing in numbers by annexing other tribes.

CHAPTER X.

The Lake tribes--The Mazitu--Quantities of elephants--Distressing
journey--Detention on the Shire.

Never before in Africa have we seen anything like the dense
population on the shores of Lake Nyassa. In the southern part there
was an almost unbroken chain of villages. On the beach of wellnigh
of every little sandy bay, dark crowds were standing, gazing at the
novel sight of a boat under sail; and wherever we landed we were
surrounded in a few seconds by hundreds of men, women, and children,
who hastened to have a stare at the "chirombo" (wild animals).

During a portion of the year, the northern dwellers on the lake have
a harvest which furnishes a singular sort of food. As we approached
our limit in that direction, clouds, as of smoke rising from miles of
burning grass, were observed bending in a south-easterly direction,
and we thought that the unseen land on the opposite side was closing
in, and that we were near the end of the lake. But next morning we
sailed through one of the clouds on our own side, and discovered that
it was neither smoke nor haze, but countless millions of minute
midges called "kungo" (a cloud or fog). They filled the air to an
immense height, and swarmed upon the water, too light to sink in it.
Eyes and mouth had to be kept closed while passing through this
living cloud: they struck upon the face like fine drifting snow.
Thousands lay in the boat when she emerged from the cloud of midges.
The people gather these minute insects by night, and boil them into
thick cakes, to be used as a relish--millions of midges in a cake. A
kungo cake, an inch thick, and as large as the blue bonnet of a
Scotch ploughman, was offered to us; it was very dark in colour, and
tasted not unlike caviare, or salted locusts.

Abundance of excellent fish is found in the lake, and nearly all were
new to us. The mpasa, or sanjika, found by Dr. Kirk to be a kind of
carp, was running up the rivers to spawn, like our salmon at home:
the largest we saw was over two feet in length; it is a splendid
fish, and the best we have ever eaten in Africa. They were ascending
the rivers in August and September, and furnished active and
profitable employment to many fishermen, who did not mind their being
out of season. Weirs were constructed full of sluices, in each of
which was set a large basket-trap, through whose single tortuous
opening the fish once in has but small chance of escape. A short
distance below the weir, nets are stretched across from bank to bank,
so that it seemed a marvel how the most sagacious sanjika could get
up at all without being taken. Possibly a passage up the river is
found at night; but this is not the country of Sundays or "close
times" for either men or fish. The lake fish are caught chiefly in
nets, although men, and even women with babies on their backs, are
occasionally seen fishing from the rocks with hooks.

A net with small meshes is used for catching the young fry of a
silvery kind like pickerel, when they are about two inches long;
thousands are often taken in a single haul. We had a present of a
large bucketful one day for dinner: they tasted as if they had been
cooked with a little quinine, probably from their gall-bladders being
left in. In deep water, some sorts are taken by lowering fish-
baskets attached by a long cord to a float, around which is often
tied a mass of grass or weeds, as an alluring shade for the deep-sea
fish. Fleets of fine canoes are engaged in the fisheries. The men
have long paddles, and stand erect while using them. They sometimes
venture out when a considerable sea is running. Our Makololo
acknowledge that, in handling canoes, the Lake men beat them; they
were unwilling to cross the Zambesi even, when the wind blew fresh.

Though there are many crocodiles in the lake, and some of an
extraordinary size, the fishermen say that it is a rare thing for any
one to be carried off by these reptiles. When crocodiles can easily
obtain abundance of fish--their natural food--they seldom attack men;
but when unable to see to catch their prey, from the muddiness of the
water in floods, they are very dangerous.

Many men and boys are employed in gathering the buaze, in preparing
the fibre, and in making it into long nets. The knot of the net is
different from ours, for they invariably use what sailors call the
reef knot, but they net with a needle like that we use. From the
amount of native cotton cloth worn in many of the southern villages,
it is evident that a great number of hands and heads must be employed
in the cultivation of cotton, and in the various slow processes
through which it has to pass, before the web is finished in the
native loom. In addition to this branch of industry, an extensive
manufacture of cloth, from the inner bark of an undescribed tree, of
the botanical group, Caesalpineae, is ever going on, from one end of
the lake to the other; and both toil and time are required to procure
the bark, and to prepare it by pounding and steeping it to render it
soft and pliable. The prodigious amount of the bark clothing worn
indicates the destruction of an immense number of trees every year;
yet the adjacent heights seem still well covered with timber.

The Lake people are by no means handsome: the women are VERY plain;
and really make themselves hideous by the means they adopt to render
themselves attractive. The pelele, or ornament for the upper lip, is
universally worn by the ladies; the most valuable is of pure tin,
hammered into the shape of a small dish; some are made of white
quartz, and give the wearer the appearance of having an inch or more
of one of Price's patent candles thrust through the lip, and
projecting beyond the tip of the nose.

In character, the Lake tribes are very much like other people; there
are decent men among them, while a good many are no better than they
should be. They are open-handed enough: if one of us, as was often
the case, went to see a net drawn, a fish was always offered.
Sailing one day past a number of men, who had just dragged their nets
ashore, at one of the fine fisheries at Pamalombe, we were hailed and
asked to stop, and received a liberal donation of beautiful fish.
Arriving late one afternoon at a small village on the lake, a number
of the inhabitants manned two canoes, took out their seine, dragged
it, and made us a present of the entire haul. The northern chief,
Marenga, a tall handsome man, with a fine aquiline nose, whom we
found living in his stockade in a forest about twenty miles north of
the mountain Kowirwe, behaved like a gentleman to us. His land
extended from Dambo to the north of Makuza hill. He was specially
generous, and gave us bountiful presents of food and beer. "Do they
wear such things in your country?" he asked, pointing to his iron
bracelet, which was studded with copper, and highly prized. The
Doctor said he had never seen such in his country, whereupon Marenga
instantly took it off, and presented it to him, and his wife also did
the same with hers. On our return south from the mountains near the
north end of the lake, we reached Marenga's on the 7th October. When
he could not prevail upon us to forego the advantage of a fair wind
for his invitation to "spend the whole day drinking his beer, which
was," he said, "quite ready," he loaded us with provisions, all of
which he sent for before we gave him any present. In allusion to the
boat's sail, his people said that they had no Bazimo, or none worth
having, seeing they had never invented the like for them. The chief,
Mankambira, likewise treated us with kindness; but wherever the
slave-trade is carried on, the people are dishonest and uncivil; that
invariably leaves a blight and a curse in its path. The first
question put to us at the lake crossing-places, was, "Have you come
to buy slaves?" On hearing that we were English, and never purchased
slaves, the questioners put on a supercilious air, and sometimes
refused to sell us food. This want of respect to us may have been
owing to the impressions conveyed to them by the Arabs, whose dhows
have sometimes been taken by English cruisers when engaged in lawful
trade. Much foreign cloth, beads, and brass-wire were worn by these
ferrymen--and some had muskets.

By Chitanda, near one of the slave crossing-places, we were robbed
for the first time in Africa, and learned by experience that these
people, like more civilized nations, have expert thieves among them.
It might be only a coincidence; but we never suffered from impudence,
loss of property, or were endangered, unless among people familiar
with slaving. We had such a general sense of security, that never,
save when we suspected treachery, did we set a watch at night. Our
native companions had, on this occasion, been carousing on beer, and
had removed to a distance of some thirty yards, that we might not
overhear their free and easy after-dinner remarks, and two of us had
a slight touch of fever; between three and four o'clock in the
morning some thieves came, while we slept ingloriously--rifles and
revolvers all ready,--and relieved us of most of our goods. The
boat's sail, under which we slept, was open all around, so the feat
was easy.

Awaking as honest men do, at the usual hour, the loss of one was
announced by "My bag is gone--with all my clothes; and my boots too!"
"And mine!" responded a second. "And mine also!" chimed in the
third, "with the bag of beads, and the rice!" "Is the cloth taken?"
was the eager inquiry, as that would have been equivalent to all our
money. It had been used for a pillow that night, and thus saved.
The rogues left on the beach, close to our beds, the Aneroid
Barometer and a pair of boots, thinking possibly that they might be
of use to us, or, at least, that they could be of none to them. They
shoved back some dried plants and fishes into one bag, but carried
off many other specimens we had collected; some of our notes also,
and nearly all our clothing.

We could not suspect the people of the village near which we lay. We
had probably been followed for days by the thieves watching for an
opportunity. And our suspicions fell on some persons who had come
from the East Coast; but having no evidence, and expecting to hear if
our goods were exposed for sale in the vicinity, we made no fuss
about it, and began to make new clothing. That our rifles and
revolvers were left untouched was greatly to our advantage: yet we
felt it was most humiliating for armed men to have been so thoroughly
fleeced by a few black rascals.

Some of the best fisheries appear to be private property. We found
shelter from a storm one morning in a spacious lagoon, which
communicated with the lake by a narrow passage. Across this strait
stakes were driven in, leaving only spaces for the basket fish-traps.
A score of men were busily engaged in taking out the fish. We tried
to purchase some, but they refused to sell. The fish did not belong
to them, they would send for the proprietor of the place. The
proprietor arrived in a short time, and readily sold what we wanted.

Some of the burying-grounds are very well arranged, and well cared
for; this was noticed at Chitanda, and more particularly at a village
on the southern shore of the fine harbour at Cape Maclear. Wide and
neat paths were made in the burying-ground on its eastern and
southern sides. A grand old fig-tree stood at the north-east corner,
and its wide-spreading branches threw their kindly shade over the
last resting-place of the dead. Several other magnificent trees grew
around the hallowed spot. Mounds were raised as they are at home,
but all lay north and south, the heads apparently north. The graves
of the sexes were distinguished by the various implements which the
buried dead had used in their different employments during life; but
they were all broken, as if to be employed no more. A piece of
fishing-net and a broken paddle told where a fisherman lay. The
graves of the women had the wooden mortar, and the heavy pestle used
in pounding the corn, and the basket in which the meal is sifted,
while all had numerous broken calabashes and pots arranged around
them. The idea that the future life is like the present does not
appear to prevail; yet a banana-tree had been carefully planted at
the head of several of the graves; the fruit might be considered an
offering to those who still possess human tastes. The people of the
neighbouring villages were friendly and obliging, and willingly
brought us food for sale.

Pursuing our exploration, we found that the northern part of the lake
was the abode of lawlessness and bloodshed. The Mazite, or Mazitu,
live on the highlands, and make sudden swoops on the villages of the
plains. They are Zulus who came originally from the south, inland of
Sofalla and Inhambane; and are of the same family as those who levy
annual tribute from the Portuguese on the Zambesi. All the villages
north of Mankambira's (lat. 11 degrees 44 minutes south) had been
recently destroyed by these terrible marauders, but they were foiled
in their attacks upon that chief and Marenga. The thickets and
stockades round their villages enabled the bowmen to pick off the
Mazitu in security, while they were afraid to venture near any place
where they could not use their shields. Beyond Mankambira's we saw
burned villages, and the putrid bodies of many who had fallen by
Mazitu spears only a few days before. Our land party were afraid to
go further. This reluctance to proceed without the presence of a
white man was very natural, because bands of the enemy who had
ravaged the country were supposed to be still roaming about; and if
these marauders saw none but men of their own colour, our party might

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