Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2)

High art in tattooing—Suspicious friendliness—Friends or foes?—A treacherous attack—The fauna of the Livingstone—Among the “Houyhynyms”—The “Yaha-ha-has”—Frank’s courage and narrow escape—Our fight with the Bangala—The mirage on the river—The great tributary of the Livingstone—Among friends.

Feb. 9.—While we rested on the jungle-covered islet opposite Rubunga, we experienced that repose of spirits which only the happy few who know neither care nor anxiety can enjoy. For the first time for many weeks we had slept well. There was no simulation in the cheerful morning greetings which were passed from one man to another. That wide-eyed suspicious look and the swift searching glance of distrust had toned down, and an unreserved geniality pervaded the camp.

About 9 A.M. the first canoe arrived, and its occupants received warm and hearty welcome. Soon others arrived, while the big market-drum continued to hasten the natives from both banks—from Rubunga and Urangi on the left, and Gunji and Upoto on the right. In light, swift, elegant canoes, of the caique pattern, the people brought fresh and dried fish, snails, oysters, mussels, dried dogs’-meat, live dogs and goats, bananas, plantains, robes of grass cloth, cassava tubers, flour and bread of the consistence of sailor’s “duff,” spears, knives, axes, hatchets, bells, iron bracelets and girdles, in fact everything that is saleable or purchasable on the shores of the Livingstone. The knives were singular specimens of the African smith’s art, being principally of a waving, sickle-shaped pattern, while the principal men carried brass-handled weapons, 18 inches long, double-edged, and rather wide-pointed, with two blood channels along the centre of the broad blade, while near the hilt the blade was pierced by two quarter-circular holes, while the top of the haft was ornamented with the fur of the otter.

The aborigines dress their hair with an art peculiar to the Warua and Waguha, which consists in wearing it in tufts on the back of the head, and fastening it with elegantly shaped iron hairpins—a fashion which also obtains among many kitchen maids in England. Tattooing is carried to excess, every portion of the skin bearing punctured marks, from the roots of the hair down to the knees. Their breasts are like hieroglyphic parchment charts, marked with raised figures, ledges, squares, circles, wavy lines, tuberose knots, rosettes, and every conceivable design. No colouring substance had been introduced into these incisions and punctures; the cuticle had simply been tortured and irritated by the injection of some irritants or air. Indeed, some of the glossy tubercules, which contained air, were as large as hens’ eggs. As many as six thin ledges marked the foreheads from temple to temple, as many ran down each cheek, while from lower eyelid to base of septum curved wavy lines; the chin showed rosettes, the neck seemed goitrous with the large vesicular protuberances, while the front parts of their bodies afforded broad fields upon which the native artist had displayed the exuberant fertility of his genius. To such an extent is this fashion carried that the people are hideously deformed, many of them having quite unnatural features and necks.

To add to the atrocious bad taste of these aborigines, their necklaces consisted of human, gorilla, and crocodile teeth, in such quantity in many cases that little or nothing could be seen of the neck. A few possessed polished boars’ tusks, with the points made to meet from each side.

Blood-brotherhood was a beastly cannibalistic ceremony with these people, yet much sought after, whether for the satisfaction of their thirst for blood, or that it involved an interchange of gifts, of which they must needs reap the most benefit. After an incision was made in each arm, both brothers bent their heads, and the aborigine was observed to suck with the greatest fervour, whether for love of blood or excess of friendship it would be difficult to say. Having discovered our liberality, they became arrant beggars, and difficult to satisfy. Copper was despised, but brass wire was gold—anything became purchasable with it except canoes.

The most curious objects we discovered at Rubunga were four ancient Portuguese muskets, at the sight of which the people of the Expedition raised a glad shout. These appeared to them certain signs that we had not lost the road, that the great river did really reach the sea, and that their master was not deluding them when he told them that some day they would see the sea.

In reply to our questions as to where they had obtained them, they said from men in canoes from Bankaro, Bangaro, Mangara, or, as the word finally settled down, from Mangala, who came once a year to buy ivory. These traders were black men, and they had never heard of white men or of Arabs. One or two of their people had visited Mangala, and from these great travellers I obtained the following list of places—which geographers will do well to study—which they had heard of as being down river:

The nations reported to be below Rubunga were Bakongo, Mberri, Wakomera, Wyyaka, Baurengeri, Mangala.

Feb. 10.—On the morning of the 10th of February natives from down river appeared to escort us, and our friends of Rubunga also despatched a canoe and five men to introduce us to Urangi. In about two hours we arrived at the very populous settlement of Urangi, consisting of several villages almost joining one another.

In order that there should be no possible chance of a rupture, we prepared to camp on a very long wooded island, on a beautiful green thoroughly shaded by forest patriarchs. Our appearance was the signal for a great number of the elegant canoes of this region to approach us. These ranged in length from 15 to 45 feet, and were manned by from one person to twenty men, according to their size. Beautifully carved and perfectly shaped, their crews, standing, and armed with powerful paddles of light wood, propelled them along at the rate of six knots an hour. They were as different in form and design from those monsters up river as the natives themselves were. It was very curious to watch this transition from one tribal peculiarity and custom to another. It was evident that these tribes never traded with those above. I doubt whether the people of Urangi and Rubunga are cannibals, though we obtained proof sufficient that human life is not a subject of concern with them, and the necklaces of human teeth which they wore were by no means assuring—they provoked morbid ideas.

We received a noisy and demonstrative welcome. They pressed on us in great numbers, which, considering our late eventful life, did not tend to promote that perfect feeling of security which we had briefly tasted at Rubunga. Still we bore it good-humouredly. If geniality, frankness, sociability are the best weapons with which to treat savage man, we showed ourselves adepts and practised professors of the art. I did not observe the least shadow of a frown, sulkiness, doubt, or suspicion on the face of any man, woman, or child connected with the Expedition. As for Frank and myself, our behaviour was characterized by an angelic benignity worthy of canonization. I sat smiling in the midst of a tattooed group, remarkable for their filed teeth and ugly gashed bodies, and bearing in their hands fearfully dangerous-looking naked knives or swords, with which the crowd might have hacked me to pieces before I could have even divined their intentions.

But presently murmurs were heard, and finally the camp was in an uproar. One man complained of his mat being stolen, another of his knife, another of his cloth, another of his store of beads; three or four spears were next abstracted; and finally, the thieving culminated in two guns being stolen. Fortunately, however, the thieves were apprehended before they had succeeded in effecting their escape. Then a new order of things was determined upon. We fell back upon the old rule of never forgetting that an unsophisticated savage was not trustworthy, except when your eyes were on him. We built a boma, and refused admission to the camp, but a market was fixed in a special place without, where, the natives were told, those who possessed articles for sale would find purchasers. The chiefs agreed to this, and friendship and fraternity were apparently as much in demand as before the little disturbance, since no one had been injured, and the losses had been borne without reprisals.

At 5 P.M. the great chief of Urangi made his presence known by sounding his double iron gong. This gong consisted of two long iron bell-shaped instruments, connected above by an iron handle, which, when beaten with a short stick with a ball of indiarubber at the end, produced very agreeable musical sounds. He received a kindly reception; and though he manifested no desire nor declared any intention of reciprocating our gift, he did not leave our camp dissatisfied with his present. He loudly proclaimed to the assembly on the river something to the effect that I was his brother; that peace and goodwill should prevail, and that everybody should behave, and “make plenty of trade.” But on his departure his people became roguish and like wild children. Scores of canoes flitted here and there, up and down, along the front of the camp, which gave us opportunities of observing that every person was tattooed in the most abominable manner; that the coiffeur’s art was carried to perfection; that human teeth were popular ornaments for the neck; that their own teeth were filed; that brass wire to an astonishing quantity had been brought to them by the Bangala; as they had coils of it upon their arms and legs, and ruffs of it resting on their shoulders; that while the men wore ample loin-coverings of grass cloth, their women went naked; that ivory was to be purchased here to any amount, and that palm-wine had affected the heads of a great many. We also discovered that Urangi possessed about a dozen muskets.

From a friend of mine, who paid me much attention, I ascertained that three hours from Urangi inland was a large market-town, called Ngombé, whither the Barangi frequently went with fish, dried and fresh, to purchase cassava, bananas, ground nuts, and palm-oil; that palm-trees were as thick as a forest inland; that on the right bank below Gunji are three districts, Umangi, Ukeré, and Mpisa; that the river on the right side is known as Ukeré, while that which rolls by Urangi is called Iringi.

At sunset our strange friends departed, and paddled across river to their villages, very amiably disposed, if one might judge from smiles and pleasant nods of the head. At 8 P.M. a terrific drumming and some half a dozen musket-shots were heard from the Urangi villages. We supposed them to be dancing and enjoying their palm-wine, the delicious and much-esteemed malofu. Sometimes we heard, amid a deathly silence, also the voice of a man, who might be reading a proclamation or delivering a lecture, for all we understood. The voice was clearly audible, but the words were not. Finally, about midnight I slept.

Feb. 11.—An hour before dawn we were alert, preparing our morning meal, packing up, delivering instructions, and observing other customs preparatory to starting the Expedition anew on the voyage.

A little after sunrise our guides of Urangi, who had shown us the way from Rubunga, appeared, according to their promise to escort us to another tribe below. For their good nature we gave an earnest of our liberal purpose. We then embarked.

As we began to move from our camp we observed scores of canoes approaching us from Urangi, across the wide branch that separated our island from the villages. This was so natural that we paid no attention to it, yet we thought a greater number of men manned them than on the previous day. But for ten minutes we glided down smoothly and agreeably. Suddenly I heard a shot and a whistling of slugs in the neighbourhood of the boat. I turned my head, and observed the smoke of gunpowder drifting away from a native canoe. Yet we could scarcely realise that our friends had so soon become enemies, until one of my people cried out, “Master, one of our men is killed. The people are firing at us.” Simultaneously with the shot I observed our guides had darted away in their canoe, and it dawned on my mind that the whole was a preconcerted arrangement.

Anxious for the safety of the Expedition, I permitted my canoes to float by me, and then formed them in line, the boat in the rear, and thus we began the fight. The natives advanced on us in gallant style, and after firing their heavily charged guns withdrew rapidly again to reload, and in the meantime the wooden assegais were launched with a marvellous dexterity, and the beautiful canoes skimmed about like flying fish here and there with bewildering evolutions and wonderful velocity and grace. Of course the shields were raised like bulwarks around our flotilla, and the fire from behind them was deadly; while though we in the boat were conspicuous marks, we could not be touched owing to our rapidity of fire. But they persistently followed us until the natives of the district of Mpakiwana heard the firing and rushed to the assault, and maintained it with a pertinacity that made us almost despair. About noon we discovered a channel leading among the islands, which we followed, soon becoming involved once more among the mazy laybrinths of the winding creeks.

Our course may be ascertained, if I state that a little above Urangi we were in north latitude 1° 36′ 0″, and at noon of the 11th, about twenty miles westward of the Urangi, we obtained north latitude 1° 41′ 0″.1° 41′ 0″.

The islands are much more numerous below Rubunga, and are marvels of vegetation, producing greater varieties of the palm species than those above. Though gigantic trees of the class already mentioned are as numerous, they are much more shrouded by masses of palm-vegetation, vines, and creepers, from the observation of the river voyager. As the banks here rise only from 5 to 10 feet above the surface of the river, they are subject to inundation when the river is in flood, and in many parts there are swampy depressions, favourable to dense growths of rattan and young palms. These low islands are haunted by many pests. As we glided by them during the day, we were subject to the attacks of vicious gad-flies and the tsetsé, and at night mosquitoes were so abundant that we obtained but little sleep. The murmur of the vast multitude of these insects sounded during the night to our half-waked senses like the noise of advancing savages, and until the wee hours of the morning the continual flip-flap of branches of the fig-tree, with which the worried mortals had armed themselves, annoyed my drowsy ears.

We obtained just a glimpse of Ukatakura, or, as it is sometimes called, Ukaturaka, as we hastened from one island channel to another. We were followed by five or six canoes for a distance of five miles, but we finally escaped them.

Feb. 12.—The 12th of February was passed without alarm; the islands were still increasing in number; the river was immensely wide, extending over seven miles. We obtained once a distant view of a village on the right bank. Low islands of alluvial sand, which shot forth rich crops of the Arundo phragmites grass, Papyrus antiquorum, and many other varieties of the Cyperaceæ, became more numerous. These were the haunts of Marabu storks, Balearic cranes, the short-legged Balæniceps Rex, flamingoes, spur-winged geese, flocks of wild duck, divers, kingfishers, egrets, black as well as white ibis, and snipe. Any number of birds for meat might easily have been obtained, were it not that a single shot would have entailed a combat with musket-armed men. Our only hope of escape from this region was by avoiding ferocious man.

On one of these islands we saw an elephant with a pair of magnificent tusks, but he was as safe from us as though we had been unarmed; and on a reedy island of considerable length we saw a herd of red buffalo, which are smaller and very different generally from the black buffalo of the eastern half of the continent. But though we pined for meat, and were accustomed, in countries where strangers are not hunted for their lives, to devote much time to hunting, still we dared not fire. The lives of many men—our own and the natives’—depended on our forbearance.

The higher and more wooded islands swarm with baboons, the Cynocephalus porcarius, the night-waking lemur, and diminutive long-tailed monkeys. Once a beating of the bushes caused me to look quickly up, and I had just a glimpse of a large species of monkey of a bearded kind, standing up; but the current was inexorable, and we were at that time rowing rapidly, so that it was useless to hope to be able to find him.

The channels swarmed with Amphibia—the hippopotamus, crocodile, and monitor. Frequently at the lower end of islands, spits of white gleaming sand were observed, with two or three bloated and monstrous crocodiles basking on them, while smaller ones, at a respectful distance from the sires, imitated their lifelessness, until the splash of our oars caused them, sires and young alike, to hurry waddling to their deep homes.

A remarkable feature of the river was its immunity from snags. A few gigantic trees, it is true, were seen stranded on a gleaming islet of sand, but those dangerous obstacles of navigation, so frequent in American rivers, are very rare on the Livingstone. This may be accounted for, perhaps, by the fact that its bed is harder and more compact, and contains a less tenacious alluvium than the river beds of North America. Yet landslips are frequent, and the banks of islands exhibit many prostrate forest monarchs; but by steering a few feet beyond these our descent was never interrupted by any obstructing branch or snag.

Feb. 13.—On the morning of the 13th we passed either the mouth of a channel 500 yards wide, or a river—the Sankuru (?)—to our left. We certainly thought it was a mere island channel, until we became surprised at its great length, and still more surprised when, turning round a bend, we discovered ourselves in the presence of a large number of villages. It was too late to return. The great war-drums and horns thundered through the woods, and startled the wild echoes of many a forested isle. With an intuitive feeling that we should again “catch it,” and become soon engaged in all the horrors of savage warfare, we prepared with all the skill in our power to defend ourselves. The women and children were told to lie down in the bottom of the canoes, and the spearmen to “stand by shields” to protect the riflemen. At this time we possessed only thirty-nine guns—nineteen Sniders and twenty muskets—besides my own rifles. When within 300 yards of the first settlement, we sheered off into mid-river and paddled slowly down in close line, the boat in the advance, with a vague sense that there would be no rest for us until we either sank into the grave or Providence should endow us with wings to enable us to vanish from this fearful savage world.

The first war-cries that rang out as the beautiful but cruel canoes skimmed towards us reminded me of the “Houyhynyms,” for, to express correctly the neighing sounds of the warriors of Marunja, their cry ought to be spelled “Yaha-ha-ha.” But in tone it was marvellously like a neighing chorus of several full-blooded stallions. Had I not been able to ascertain the names of these tribes, I should certainly have been justified in stating that after the “Ooh-hu-hus” we encountered the “Bo-bo-bos,” and after a dire experience with the fierce “Bo-bo-bos” we met the terrible “Yaha-ha-has.” Any traveller who should succeed me would be certain to remark upon the fidelity of the novel classification.

For my part I must confess to having been charmed into a dangerous inactivity by the novelty of the human cries, so much so that, before I was on the alert, there were three canoes in front of me, and over the gunwales I saw nine bright musket barrels aimed at me. As my position was in the bow of the boat while leading the Expedition down river, I soon became the target for a few more, as the swift gliding canoes were propelled in a crescent form in our front. But, as on several other occasions, I was saved, because my very appearance startled them. Had I been a black man I should have long before been slain; but even in the midst of a battle, curiosity, stronger than hate or bloodthirstiness, arrested the sinewy arm which drew the bow, and delayed the flying spear. And now, while their thin flint hammers were at full cock, and the fingers pressing the triggers of the deadly muskets, the savages became absorbed in contemplating the silent and still form of a kind of being which to them must have appeared as strange as any unreal being the traditions of their fathers had attempted to describe. “White!”

Of course the slightest movement on my part would have been instantly followed by my death. Though it was unpleasant to sit and feel oneself to be a target for so many guns, yet it was the wisest plan. While I was the object of curiosity to a large party, Frank was no less the centre of attraction to a number of men that hovered on our left flank, and our asses shared with us the honour of being wonders to the aborigines. Katembo attempted to open a conversation with them, and by surprising them with the question if they were Marunja we obtained a knowledge as to whom we were indebted for these unpleasant honours. And I believe it was to Katembo that we owed the rupture of the charm of curiosity, for five minutes afterwards, when we had descended nearly two miles in silence below their villages, a vicious black aborigine fired and killed Rehani, one of our finest men. Instinctively the Wangwana raised their shields, and, rowing up swiftly to meet them, to defend the people like a hen her chickens, the boat opened its battery of small arms to avenge the death of Rehani, and in thirty minutes the seventy musket-armed canoes of the Marunja were retreating to a more respectful distance. After following us for five miles they abandoned the pursuit, and we happily saw no more of them.

At noon we obtained an observation, north latitude 1° 28′ 0″, while at noon of the 12th we were in north latitude 1° 36′ 0″. Our course among the islands had ranged from west half north to west-south-west.

After we had escaped the Marunja, we crept from channel to channel and creek to creek, which wound in and out between island groves, until night, when we encamped, to undergo the usual nightly tortures of the light-coloured mosquitoes of the Livingstone.

We had discovered on several islands, since leaving Urangi, small camps, consisting of, perhaps, a dozen small grass huts or sheds, which had, no doubt, been the temporary shelter erected by some trading tribe below, and, as we heard from the aborigines of Rubunga the power of the Mangala highly extolled, we came to the conclusion that upon arriving in the Bangala’s country we should be freed from all strife and danger.

Feb. 14.—During the forenoon of the 14th of February, while anxiously looking out lest we should be taken by some erratic channels in view of other villages, we arrived at the end of an island, which, after some hesitation, we followed along the right. Two islands were to the right of us, and prevented us from observing the mainland. But after descending two miles we came in full view of a small settlement on the right bank. Too late to return, we crept along down river, hugging the island as closely as possible, in order to arrive at a channel before the natives should sight us. But, alas! even in the midst of our prayers for deliverance, sharp quick taps on a native kettledrum sent our blood bounding to the heart, and we listened in agony for the response. Presently one drum after another sounded the alarm, until the Titanic drums of war thundered the call to arms.

In very despair, I sprang to my feet, and, addressing my distressed and long-suffering followers, said, “It is of no use, my friends, to hope to escape these bloody pagans. Those drums mean war. Yet it is very possible these are the Bangala, in which case, being traders, they will have heard of the men by the sea, and a little present may satisfy the chiefs. Now, while I take the sun you prepare your guns, your powder and bullets, see that every shield is ready to lift at once, as soon as you see or hear one gun-shot. It is only in that way I can save you, for every pagan now, from here to the sea, is armed with a gun, and they are black like you, and they have a hundred guns to your one. If we must die, we will die with guns in our hands like men. While I am speaking, and trying to make friendship with them, let no one speak or move.”

We drew ashore at the little island, opposite the highest village, and at noon I obtained my observation north latitude 1° 7′ 0″. Meanwhile savage madness was being heated by the thunder of drums, canoes were mustering, guns were being loaded, spears and broadswords were being sharpened, all against us, merely because we were strangers, and afloat on their waters. Yet we had the will and the means to purchase amity. We were ready to submit to any tax, imposition, or insolent demand for the privilege of a peaceful passage. Except life, or one drop of our blood, we would sacrifice anything.

Slowly and silently we withdrew from the shelter of the island and began the descent of the stream. The boat took position in front, Frank’s canoe, the Ocean, on the right, Manwa Sera’s, London Town, to the left. Beyond Manwa Sera’s canoe was the uninhabited island, the great length of which had ensnared us, and hedged us in to the conflict. From our right the enemy would appear with muskets and spears, and an unquenchable ferocity, unless we could mollify him.

We had left Observation Island about half a mile behind us when the prows of many canoes were seen to emerge out of the creek. I stood up and edged towards them, holding a long piece of red cloth in one hand, and a coil of brass wire in another. We rested on our oars, and the men quietly placed their paddles in their canoes, and sat up, watchful, but ready for contingencies. As we floated down, numbers of canoes advanced.

I hailed the natives, who were the most brilliantly decorated of any yet seen. At a distance they all appeared to wear something like English University caps, though of a white colour. There was a great deal of glitter and flash of metal, shining brass, copper, and bright steel among them.

The natives returned no answer to my hail; still I persisted, with the same artfulness of manner that had been so successful at Rubunga. I observed three or four canoes approaching Frank’s vessel with a most suspicious air about them, and several of their canoes menacing him, at which Frank stood up and menaced them with his weapon. I thought the act premature, and ordered him to sit down, and to look away from them. I again raised the crimson cloth and wire, and by pantomime offered to give it to those in front, whom I was previously addressing; but almost immediately those natives who had threatened Frank fired into my boat, wounding three of my young crew—Mambu, Murabo, and Jaffari—and two more natives fired into Frank’s canoe, wounding two—Hatib and Muftah. The missiles fired into us were jagged pieces of iron and copper ore precisely similar to those which the Ashantees employed. After this murderous outrage there was no effort made to secure peace. The shields were lifted, and proved capital defences against the hail of slugs. Boat, shields, and canoes were pitted, but only a few shields were perforated.

The conflict began in earnest, and lasted so long that ammunition had to be redistributed. We perceived that, as the conflict continued, every village sent out its quota. About two o’clock a canoe advanced with a swaggering air, its crew evidently intoxicated, and fired at us when within thirty yards. The boat instantly swept down to it and captured it, but the crew sprang into the river, and, being capital swimmers, were saved by a timely arrival of their friends. At three o’clock I counted sixty-three opposed to us. Some of the Bangala—which they disclosed themselves by their peculiar cries, “Yaha-ha-ha, Ya Bangala!” “Ya Bangala! Yaha-ha-ha!”—distinguished themselves by an audacity and courage that, for our own sakes, I was glad to see was not general. Especially one young chief, distinguished by his head-dress of white goat-skin, and a short mantle of the same material, and wreaths of thick brass wire on neck, arms and legs, sufficient, indeed, to have protected those parts from slugs, and proving him to be a man of consequence. His canoe mates were ten in number; and his steersman, by his adroitness and dexterity, managed the canoe so well that after he and his mates had fired their guns, he instantly presented its prow and only a thin line of upright figures to our aim. Each time he dashed up to deliver his fire all the canoes of his countrymen seemed stimulated by his example to emulate him. And, allowing five guns on an average to each of the sixty-three canoes, there were 315 muskets opposed to our forty-four. Their mistake was in supposing their slugs to have the same penetrative effect and long range as our missiles had. Only a few of the boldest approached, after they had experienced our fire, within a hundred yards. The young chief already mentioned frequently charged to within fifty yards, and delivered a smashing charge of missiles, almost all of which were either too low or too high. Finally Manwa Sera wounded him with a Snider bullet in the thigh. The brave fellow coolly, and in presence of us all, took a piece of cloth and deliberately bandaged it, and then calmly retreated towards shore. The action was so noble and graceful that orders were given to let him withdraw unmolested. After his departure the firing became desultory, and at 5.30 P.M. our antagonists retired, leaving us to attend to our wounded, and to give three hearty cheers at our success. This was our thirty-first fight on the terrible river—the last but one—and certainly the most determined conflict that we had endured.

My gossipy friend at Urangi had stated to me that the Bangala, when they visited his country, were in the habit of carrying things with a high hand, that they frequently indulged in shooting in the most indiscriminate manner at everything if angered, that they were very “hot”. But I never expected they would have indulged their “hot-headedness” at the expense of people who might be called relations of those who had supplied them with guns and powder. It is evident, however, to me that, enterprising as the Bangala are, they have never ascended the Livingstone higher than Upoto, otherwise they must certainly have been compelled to measure their strength against the cannibals of the Aruwimi.

The Bangala may be said to be the Ashantees of the Livingstone River, though their country has comparatively but a small populated river front. Their villages cover at intervals—of a mile or half a mile—a line of ten miles. They trade with Ikengo and Irebu down the river all the ivory they have purchased from Upoto, Gunji, Mpisa, Ukeré, Rubunga, Urangi, Mpakiwana, and Marunja. I observed soon after the fight began that many canoes emerged out of a river coming from a northerly direction. For a long period the river of Bangala has appeared on West African maps as the Bancaro river. The word Bangala, which may be pronounced Bangara, Bankara, or Bankaro, signifies the people of Mangala or Mangara, Mankara or Mankaro. I have simply adopted the more popular term.

Unquestionably the Bangala are a very superior tribe. I regret very much the singular antipathy they entertain towards strangers, which no doubt they will continue to show until, like the Ashantees, they have been taught by two or three sharp fights to lessen their pretensions to make targets of aborigines and strangers. While the Bangala are permitted to pass Ikengo to Irebu, the people of Ikengo and Irebu are not privileged to ascend the river beyond Bangala.

We continued our journey on this eventful day until an hour after sunset, when we proceeded to establish a camp at the head of a narrow tortuous channel, which lost itself amid the clusters of small islets.

Feb. 15.—On the 15th, at noon, we reached north latitude 0° 58′ 0″. The strong winds which at this season blow daily up river impeded our journey greatly. They generally began at 8 A.M. and lasted until 3 P.M. When narrow channels were open to us we were enabled to proceed without interruption, but when exposed to broad open streams the waves rose as high as 2 feet, and were a source of considerable danger. Indeed, from the regularity and increased force of the winds, I half suspected at the time that the Livingstone emptied into some vast lake such as the Victoria Nyanza. The mean temperature in the shade seldom exceeds 74° Fahr., and the climate, though not dry, was far more agreeable than the clammy humidity characteristic of the east coast. The difference between the heat in this elevated region and that of the east coast was such that, while it was dangerous to travel in the sun without a sun-umbrella near the sea on the east coast, a light double-cotton cloth cap saved me from feeling any inconvenience when standing up in the boat under a bright glaring sun and cloudless sky. While sitting down in the boat, a few minutes was sufficient to convince me it was dangerous without an umbrella, even here. While at work at the Stanley Falls the umbrella was not used. The nights were uncomfortable without a blanket, and sometimes even two were desirable.

The winds which prevail at this season of the year are from the south-west, or south, which means from the temperate latitude of the South Atlantic, and slightly chilled in their passage over the western ranges. In the early morning the thermometer was often as low as 64°. From 10 A.M. to 4 P.M. it ranged from 75° to 85° Fahr. in the shade; from 4 P.M. to sunset it ranged from 72° to 80°. From the 12th January until the 5th March we experienced no rain.

One remarkable fact connected with our life in this region is, that though we endured more anxiety of mind and more strain on the body, were subject to constant peril, and fared harder (being compelled for weeks to subsist on green bananas, cassava, and sugarless tea, and those frequently in scanty quantities), we—Frank and I—enjoyed better health on the Livingstone than at any other period of the journey; but whether this unusual health might not be attributed to having become more acclimatized is a question.

The mirage on the Livingstone was often ludicrously deceptive, playing on our fears at a most trying period, in a manner which plunged us from a temporary enjoyment of our immunity from attack into a state of suspicion and alarm, which probably, in nine cases out of ten, arose out of the exaggerated proportions given to a flock of pelicans or wild geese, which to our nerves, then in a high state of tension, appeared to be a very host of tall warriors. A young crocodile basking on a sandy spit appeared to be as large as a canoe, and an ancient and bleached tree a ship.

Feb. 17.—At noon of the 17th we had reached north latitude 0° 18′ 41″, our course during the 16th and 17th having been south-west, but a little before sunset the immense river was gradually deflecting to south.

Since the 10th we had been unable to purchase food. The natives had appeared to be so unapproachable, that again the questions naturally arose in each mind, “Where shall we obtain food?” “What shall we do?” “What will be the end of all this?” “Whither, oh whither are we going?” My poor people had been elevated to a high pitch of exultation when they had first seen the four muskets at Rubunga. They regarded them as the beginning of the end. But now? “Ah, whither are we going on this cruel, cruel river?”

Yet they bore the dire period with Spartan stoicism. They were convinced that, had it been in my power, they should never have suffered from scarcity. They had become trained to rely on my judgment and discretion, and with a child-like faith they trusted me. Knowing this but too well, my anxiety to show myself worthy of their love and duty was increased. I might delay procuring food for their safety, but human beings cannot live on air. But where should I get it, when the mere sight of us put the natives into a rage for murder? How was food to be obtained if the sound of our voices was followed instantly with deadly missiles?

I quote the following from my note-book:—