light complexion, attired in long white shirts, and with white cloths round their heads.

Chief among these was a man rather over the ordinary height, with a black beard and moustache in which the gray hairs were beginning to appear. He was quite white, though of a sallow complexion, with a high-hooked nose and deep black eyes of a most kindly expression, though it was evident that if roused they could be stern and flashing. In his left hand he carried a sheathed two-handed sword, innocent of guard. He was closely followed by a boy about twelve years old carrying a double-barrelled percussion rifle.

This was the famed Hamees ibu Sayf, otherwise known as Tipolo, the principal among all the Arabs who in search of ivory and slaves had crossed the Tanganyika. He exercised an authority among his fellows which few cared to dispute. Upwards of two hundred freemen and slaves from “the island,” and six hundred natives of Unyamwesi, all armed with muskets, served him well and faithfully in the dual capacity of porters and irregular troops.

Besides Hamees ibu Sayf, who alone was of the pure Arab blood of Muscat, there were Wasuahili from “the island,” and Wamerima from the coast, Muinyi Dugumbi, Habib wadi Nassur, Juma wadi Hamed, Muinyi Heri and Hamad ibu Ghasib, all traders, but none of whom were able to muster more than sixty or seventy guns individually. There were also several men either free or the confidential slaves of men resident at Zanzibar, who had followed the caravans of the larger traders with bodies of ten or a dozen men each.

All these men may be dismissed without remark, save only Tipolo, who was an extraordinary man, and who, if he had lived, might now be filling the place occupied by Tipo-Tipo (Hamed ibu Hamed), who now exercises what is practically supreme power from the Tanganyika to Stanley Falls on the Congo. Tipolo was, I regret to say, a slave-trader. His followers were often guilty of great cruelties, for he could not always be with them to restrain them. He himself was a man of kindly disposition; and though brave as a lion, and nothing loath to engage in war when he considered it necessary or advantageous, was equally willing to make treaties with the native chiefs, and was never known to depart from his plighted word. Indeed, many times when other traders were engaged in hostilities with chiefs whom he had promised to assist, if his words and remonstrances were not heeded, he threw the weight of his armed men into the scale on the side of the natives; and, contrary to the custom of many of the Zanzibar travelling merchants, issued beads and other things to his men to buy food, and would not permit them to live at free quarters among the natives.

He now came and sat down where Hatibu, Bilal, and I were lying, and said, gravely and courteously, “Good morning.” It was so long since I had heard a word of my mother tongue, that it awoke many emotions in my breast, and unbidden tears forced themselves to my eyes as I eagerly answered. The sound of English even from my own mouth seemed strange to me. But great was my disappointment when I found he could not understand me, and that his whole stock of English consisted only of the two words “Good morning.”

He now questioned Hatibu about the recent occurrences. Some of the slaves we had liberated proved faithful to their trust, and had brought him news of our desperate plight. No time had been lost in coming to our relief. He said that now he would utterly destroy the power of Mona Mkulla’s successor, and give such a lesson to the natives that never again would they dare to attack a follower of Tipolo.

For some days we remained in this place, and I am sorry to say that Tipolo’s intentions were ruthlessly carried out. Every day strings of captives laden with ivory and whatever else had value in the eyes of their captors were brought into camp. News of villages burned, plantations destroyed, and men killed fighting in defence of their liberty, their families, and their homes, formed the sole topic of conversation.

I tried hard to cause Tipolo to give orders for the work of revenge and extermination to cease; but he said his word was plighted to the other traders that they would carry out the work of plunder to the utmost, and having an opportunity such as rarely, if ever, had occurred before, they were loath to desist. His Wanyamwesi also, unless they were permitted to make slaves, would probably prove unruly, and might perhaps even desert en masse, and leave him without the means of transporting the ivory he had collected to the coast.

By degrees I won over Muinyi Heri, Habib wadi Nassur, and others to the side of mercy; but Muinyi Dugumbi would not listen to my pleadings. At last Tipolo said that for one man’s lust of wealth the war should no longer be carried on, and gave the word for the march to Nyangwe. He told Muinyi Dugumbi that if he did not tell his followers to cease from plunder he would turn his Wanyamwesi against them; and Muinyi sullenly consented.

The wounds of Hatibu, Bilal, and myself, which we had received in our desperate defence of our lives, did not permit us to walk, and litters were constructed on which we were carried. It was with feelings of joy and thankfulness that we commenced our journey towards Nyangwe, the first step towards the coast and of my return to my own people. I need hardly say that my opinion about the delights of African travel had been considerably modified since I and my brother Willie used to talk, on board the Petrel, of the wonderful journeys of Livingstone.

Among Tipolo’s domestic slaves were some who understood the noble art of cookery in a more extended sense than any persons I had hitherto met with in the Dark Continent, and with good food, careful nursing, and revived hope, my wounds recovered so quickly that before half the journey to Nyangwe was

completed, I was able for a good portion of each day’s march to quit my litter and walk. When I did I always kept near Tipolo, and saw plenty of proof that he carried out his orders about the proper treatment of natives. In one village which we passed through some women came and complained of some men, just gone before, who had gone into a hut and stolen a quantity of plantains. He at once had the men recalled and made them restore their plunder. He took from them some beads and gave them to the women, and then dismissed the culprits with some sound blows from his walking-stick.

At last we sighted the large river on which Nyangwe is situated, and I was astonished to see such a flow of water so far away from the sea. On the side on which we approached there was a wide strip of low country, flooded in the rainy season; whilst on the other, or right side, the banks of the river rose in small cliffs about twenty or twenty-five feet high.

Close to the river on the left bank were villages which are deserted in the rains, but which were now inhabited by people called the Wagenya. These seemed one and all to be engaged in making pots of various shapes and sizes out of the clay obtained from pools left by the river when falling. While in the woods, we had come across men cutting down trees and fashioning them into canoes.

We struck the river some little distance above Nyangwe, and from the natives Tipolo managed to hire some canoes, in which he and his immediate followers, together with Hatibu, Bilal, and myself, embarked, and with the aid of a current which must have run from four to five knots an hour we reached Nyangwe about nine o’clock in the morning, having left those who were to follow by land about six. The river was full of islands. On the larger were villages inhabited by a tribe quite different in their habits and pursuits from the Wagenya, who lived on the left bank. On the numerous sand-banks were quantities of duck and other wild-fowl, while the water abounded with fish, hippopotami, and crocodiles. We passed many canoes between the islands and the shore, some with their occupants engaged in fishing. Their numbers kept on increasing as we drew nearer to Nyangwe, which I quite expected to find a very large place from the number of people I saw going there.

I tried to find out from my companions what was the cause of such a concourse of people, but the only answer I could get was, “Soko leo”—that is, Soko to-day. As I had seen the monkeys that had acted as masters of the ceremonies on the occasion of my first introduction to Hatibu, the words puzzled me exceedingly. What could “Monkeys to-day” mean? Was there going to be a great hunt of these monster apes, and were all those people going to take part in it? Thicker and thicker grew the canoes; and when a bluff crowned with some large houses with high thatched roofs came in sight, I was told it was Nyangwe, and

I saw that at the landing-place were literally hundreds of empty canoes.

Among these we made our way. We found that the other canoes which were arriving at the same time were loaded with people bringing things for sale, carried in large baskets upon the backs of women, the greater portion of the weight being supported by a band over the forehead, similar to the manner in which a fish-wife carries her creel.

On arriving at the houses we found a large open space close by crowded with people buying and selling. On Tipolo saying to me, “There’s the soko,” I learned that soko, besides being the name of an ape, also meant a market.

There must have been at least two thousand people present—the representatives of many tribes, who, though hostile to each other in all other places, met in this and other markets without fighting or strife. The Wagenya were there with their pottery. Others brought fish, both dried and fresh. Pigs, fowls, eggs, grain, ground-nuts, bananas, palm oil, goats, were bartered for such things as their possessors wanted, while for a few beads and cowries the Arab traders were able to obtain provisions for their numerous followers. The noise and confusion were indescribable. Buyers and sellers were so crowded together that it was almost impossible to make way through them, though apparently there was space enough for the market people to have spread themselves about and carried on their business in comfort, instead of jostling against each other and damaging many of their wares.

When we got through this mass of humanity we found ourselves before a large house with a large veranda, the floor of which was raised about two feet above the ground. Here mats and cushions were spread, and soon traders and their men crowded round, longing to learn what our news was. Hatibu and Bilal were welcomed by their wives with loud expressions of joy. The wives of the poor fellows who had been killed were most noisy and demonstrative in their grief, daubing themselves with white, and going round to all the houses of the settlement, wailing and clapping their hands in a measured cadence.

The news of the success of Tipolo in his expedition, was received with much applause, while admiration was lavished on Hatibu, Bilal, and the Mzungu (European) for the bravery they had displayed. We were likened to simba (lions), mwamba (crocodiles), tembe (elephants), and mboys (or buffaloes); and much wonder was expressed that I, a white man, had come from the farther sea, of the existence and position of which the people assembled had only a dim and distant knowledge. They were astonished that I had passed years among the Washenzi, or heathen, as the people of “the island” call all the pagan tribes of Central Africa, without being killed and eaten. But their astonishment rose to its greatest height when they heard that I had escaped from the dwarfs, whose quiver of poisoned

arrows I had preserved, for they were indeed watu wabaya (bad men), and mkali kama moto (hot as fire).

As soon as our budget was exhausted Tipolo inquired what had occurred during his absence. Two men were brought to him who had arrived only the evening before with the news that his brother Hamed ibu Sayf would arrive in a few days from Ujiji, where he had been to bring up goods left behind when Tipolo quitted that place; and that the road between it and Unyanyembe, which had for some time been closed by the Watuta (a robber tribe), was again open. As soon as he heard this, Tipolo said that when his brother arrived he would at once despatch a caravan to the coast with part of the ivory he had collected. He told me also that I should go with it, and that its command would be given to Hatibu. To Hatibu and Bilal he now gave their freedom, as a reward for their bravery, presenting Hatibu with twelve slaves and six tusks of ivory, and to Bilal he gave eight slaves and four tusks.

By this time the market was over. Though the only traces of there having been such an enormous assemblage of people gathered together were the trampled condition of the ground and the litter left behind, on walking to the bluff overhanging the river I could see the canoes dispersing in all directions.

A comfortable room in Tipolo’s house was now placed at my disposal. Clothes were given me to dress myself in, coffee with sugar in it, and bread made of wheaten flour, were given to me—luxuries to which I had been a stranger for many a long day. Though I knew that a long, toilsome, and perhaps dangerous journey still lay before me, I had no forebodings. When I retired to rest that night I thanked God truly and earnestly for having preserved me from all the dangers through which I had passed in my years of African travel, for the good treatment I had received at the hands of Tipolo and Hatibu, and for having brought me at last to a place of safety.

CHAPTER XXI.

DEPARTURE FOR THE COAST.

Tipolo and his immediate friends treated me with every kindness; but many of the smaller traders, who would fain have been robbers and not traders at all, and who chafed under the restrictions which Tipolo enforced in their intercourse with the natives, did not regard me with any favour. They said openly it was a mistake to let an Englishman who knew all about their doings in Central Africa leave the country, as he would be sure to tell his government that they traded in slaves; and that already the Beni har (sons of fire), as they called our naval officers, interfered with the transport of slaves from “the island” to Munculla and Muscat. To this Tipolo answered, that here among the heathen it was for all civilized persons to assist one another; that by all the laws of hospitality, by the traditions of the Arab race, and by the teaching of Mohammed, the prophet of God, whom God bless,[C] they were bound to assist me to the utmost, and should do so without any hope of reward or fear of evil.

Though Tipolo was so kind to me, I longed for the day when we should leave Nyangwe. In his presence I was free from insult, but many of the baser sort among the traders did not scruple to insult me, calling me a dog of a Nazarene, a hog, and unclean, and would doubtless, unless deterred by fear, have ill-treated me in other ways. These people too, I found, lived a life of debauchery. Such slaves as they had they treated in a very cruel manner, quite different from that in which Tipolo treated those of his household; but I am obliged to say that the captives he had made in his recent campaign, though fairly fed, were but poorly lodged, and kept chained in gangs of from ten to fifteen to prevent their escape.

One evening, as I was drinking coffee with him in his barazah, or veranda, the only other person present being Hatibu, to whom he had been giving orders about his journey to the coast, I ventured to speak to him about slavery and the condition of those unfortunate people dragged away from their wives and families.

I was somewhat afraid he would resent my interference, but I was much pleased to find that he did not. He only seemed to think that I and all Englishmen were mad on the question of slavery, which he argued had always been and always would be, adding that Daood, and Suliman ibu Daood (David and his son Solomon), and the prophet Ayoub (Job), had all possessed slaves, and that the Koran permitted slavery. To this I said that surely the Koran did not permit wars for the purpose of making slaves; and though I had never heard he had sent out slave-raids, still Muinyi Dugumbi and other traders did, and it could not be right to keep numbers of men in chains.

He answered, that with the doings of Muinyi Dugumbi and others like him he had nothing to do; that he often used his influence to prevent them from attacking the natives without provocation, and to induce them to treat their captives kindly. As for himself and all true Arabs, he said the slaves of their household were treated as members of the family, and had nothing to complain of; indeed, they were better off than they would be as freemen, and could always, if they desired it, become free. The captives he had made, he confessed, were not so well treated; “but,” he said, “what can I do? I have here ivory which I have collected at great cost and risk, and here it is valueless to me. I must send it to the sea to sell it; and how am I to carry it? If I send my own men, my people from ‘the island,’ and my Wanyamwesi with it, I shall be left here without defence. The people of the country will not travel far for hire. Slaves cost more than freemen. From Unyanyembe to Kilwa and Bagamoyo the Wanyamwesi go as porters, and we pay and feed them; that is better than employing slaves. Ten slaves are chained together,—one man stops, all stop. Ten slaves cannot carry as much as five men who are free. If I could carry my ivory without slaves I would, as it would be better and cheaper for me. A freeman wants to end his journey and get his payment; a slave does not care—one day is the same as another to him: so that the freeman travels faster and further. No; if I could get pagazi (porters) to carry my ivory, I would never use slaves. But if we did not have slaves, what would become of the people the heathen make prisoners in war? They would be killed and eaten. Surely it is better for them to be slaves.”

I was unable to reply; but he did not convince me at all that slavery was right, or even excusable. I daily became more and more a hater of slavery, from what I saw of the way the captives he had taken in the late fights were treated, though their lot was far better than that of those who had fallen into the hands of other traders. I had, however, not much time to argue with Tipolo on the subject, for his brother arrived; and he was busy all day long with him arranging about pushing their trading-parties further afield, and about the despatch of ivory to the coast.

I was delighted to find that Hatibu, my first acquaintance among the Arabs and their retainers, was selected for the charge of the down-caravan, and that Bilal was to accompany him, as with them I felt myself safe. If any of the many people who did not care about my freely expressed opinions about slavery had been put in charge, they would not have treated me so kindly as did Hatibu, with whom I had struck up a

very warm friendship, increased by the memory of the perils we had gone through together. I had the feeling that, under Providence, it was to him I was indebted for my life and the prospect of returning to my own people and my own country.

Our preparations were not very great. Besides Hatibu and Bilal and their wives, Tipolo sent twenty men from Zanzibar, and thirty Wanyamwesi. A hundred loads of ivory were loaded on as many slaves, and fifty more were sent to be used in case the others broke down, or to be sold and bartered on the road. In the meantime they carried the personal belongings of their escort, and a small stock of beads and cowries with which to pay for food. Muinyi Dugumbi and others also took the opportunity of this party leaving for the coast to send away slaves and ivory, and gave the charge of their ventures to some of their own adherents.

Before leaving Nyangwe, Tipolo told me to speak for him to the consul of the English at Zanzibar, and say that he had done all that lay in his power for me. He said that his agent there would provide me with means to return home. His kindness quite overpowered me, and I did not know how I could thank this generous and good-hearted man for all his kindness to me. It is my duty to represent him as he appeared to me, and to mourn that such a man should be almost compelled to be a trafficker in human flesh.

He accompanied us for a couple of hours on our first day’s march. When we parted he said he had given into Hatibu’s charge, for my special use, a bag of rice, some curry stuff, and a small quantity of coffee, to enable me to live more comfortably than if I were to depend entirely on the products of the country for food.

For the first three or four days our road led through a comparatively open country, where there were but few inhabitants, and where the villages lay far apart. Hatibu, in obedience to the orders of Tipolo, paid the people of these villages for any supplies he got from them; but the other chiefs of parties allowed their men to plunder and rob, and it was easy to see that if it had not been for the fear entertained of our fire-arms, the sufferers would have attacked us. As it was, the women and children all fled on our approach, and only the men remained in the villages. Armed with heavy spears and huge wooden shields, they seemed formidable fellows; and every night a warning was given in camp that no one should straggle from the caravan, as we were entering Manyuema, where the people were fierce, and would kill and eat all strangers whom they found alone. Nor was this warning unnecessary; for as I conversed with Hatibu and Bilal around our campfire at night, they told me many instances of stragglers having been cut off; and often in the day-time we could see bodies of men watching the progress of our party, evidently ready to attack us if any favourable opportunity offered itself.

As we advanced the country became more thickly populated; and in the course of each day’s march we passed many large villages, which were different in their arrangements from any I had seen in my wanderings in Africa. They were all composed of long, parallel rows of huts, built of red mud, with thatched roofs. The huts, instead of being as usual round or square, were oblong, and the roofs had gable ends. In the smaller of the villages there were only two rows of these huts, facing each other across a wide open space. Along the centre of this was usually planted a row of oil palms, between which were the village granaries and floors of hardened clay, with trunks of trees sunk to half their diameter, and having holes cut in them for the women and slaves to pound the corn required for food.

In the larger villages there were two, three, and even four of these double rows, sometimes disposed abreast, and sometimes radiating from a large open space. In every village were one or more large sheds, under which were foundries where iron was smelted, the blast necessary to get up the heat being produced by men working a curious kind of bellows, there being sometimes ten or a dozen men squatting round the furnace, each working away at his own pair of bellows. The iron was made into blooms weighing about three or four pounds, shaped like a double cone, with a projection about as big as a skewer, and four inches long at each end. These were used by the producers to barter for all sorts of necessaries of life, and even luxuries, as they are understood in Central Africa. Hatibu, who said they would be of great use on our road for procuring provisions, laid in a stock of them, as did all our followers.

The ironworkers did not confine themselves to making this iron currency, for they were most skilful smiths. The blades of the knives, spears, and axes which they made were often elaborately ornamented with patterns chiselled on them, and in some cases were perforated. The most valuable of all were inlaid with copper, the patterns being very good and tasteful. Indeed, the arms of the chiefs were often such masses of ornament that they became almost useless for purposes of offence.

The villages of these ironworkers were passed in about seven days; and soon after we came to a river called the Luama, which we had to cross in canoes. Here, while crossing, we were somewhat frightened by a herd of hippopotami coming down the stream and blowing close to the canoes. One, indeed, came so close to the canoe in which Hatibu and I were that I could have touched its back with my hand, and I was in a great fright lest we should be capsized.

As it was too late for us to continue our march when we were all across, we had to form our camp on the bank of the river; and in the evening we began speaking of the hippopotami. Some natives in the camp told us how they were in the habit of waiting at night for the brutes to land, and spearing them as they came out of the water. I was desirous to be quit with them for the fear and annoyance they had caused us, and I proposed to Hatibu that we should try our hand at this sport if we could find a place where they were in the habit of coming ashore.

When the natives heard this, they said they would take us to a place where there would be hippopotami in plenty, but as it would be too late for us to go that night, they proposed that we should halt the next day to let the people rest and get food. This suited us very well; for we found that corn was cheap and plentiful, and Hatibu had intended to have made a stay two days further on for the purpose of provisioning the caravan. By what he now heard he found that the village where he had intended to halt had been burned by the inhabitants of another some little distance away, so that we should have been disappointed had we tried to get food there.

CHAPTER XXII.

SPEARING HIPPOPOTAMI.

Next day, soon after noon, Hatibu and I left Bilal in charge of the camp. With four men armed with muskets we went in a canoe with two natives about three miles down the river, where we landed, and there found one of the most extraordinary sights that one ever saw. The river was about ten feet below its highest level in flood-time, and the water, falling, had left a huge, swampy lagoon, separated from it by five or six hundred yards of muddy ground. On the shores of this lagoon were the most extraordinary flocks of storks and other birds, which, according to our guides, came there only at certain times of the year, and then stopped for a few days. We could see numbers of hippopotami wallowing about in the water, it in many places not being deep enough to cover them. Lying on its banks were a lot of dark objects, looking something like decayed trunks of trees. As we drew near they began to move, and then I saw that they were crocodiles.

Certainly we had been brought where there were plenty of hippopotami, but it was a question how we could get at them. There was great danger, especially if we waded into the water, of being attacked by the crocodiles. I at first proposed that we should haul the canoe across the muddy strip separating the river from the lagoon; but we soon found that we had not men enough to do it. Hatibu began to scold the guides, telling them they had brought us on a fool’s errand; but they begged of us not to be angry, saying we should, by following a path which they pointed out, reach in half an hour a village where we could rest till sunset, and close to this village was a place where the hippopotami constantly came out to feed on the growing crops, and where a proper ambuscade had been made to spear them from.

At first Hatibu did not care about going to this village, as he feared some treachery; and, even without treachery, the people belonging to the parties with us might bring about a row with the natives, and we might be cut off from our companions, and be unable to defend ourselves. I overruled his scruples. Following the path, we struck through some tall cane grass, and found the whole ground covered with tracks of hippopotami and crocodiles, while occasionally we came across fresh tracks of elephants. As soon as we saw these, Hatibu became eager to go on, the hope of adding to his stock of ivory overweighing any feeling of caution.

We had not gone above five hundred yards along this path before we heard screams and yells, and soon made out that they proceeded from some Zanzibar people. Fearing that they might have got into some trouble, we made our way with all haste in their direction, and breaking through the grass we came upon a most exciting scene. A large portion of the grass was trampled down. A number of the men who had gone out early in the morning were brandishing their weapons, and some in the middle were thrusting at some object which we could not very clearly discern. As we drew closer we made out that this was an enormous crocodile, and we heard that he had seized upon one of the party who had incautiously strayed from the path.

His companions had been attracted by the poor fellow’s yells. They had rushed to his rescue, and had managed to drive the brute away from him; but after a bit the crocodile had turned to bay, and they were now all round him trying to find a spot where they could penetrate his scaly armour, and springing from side to side in order to avoid the sweeping blows which he was dealing with his powerful tail. Just as we came up one fellow more adroit and daring than his companions managed to plunge a spear into the animal’s eye. It at once rolled over in agony, exposing its belly, where the skin is softer, and instantly it was riddled with spears. Though wounded to the death, it was tenacious of life, knocked several fellows over, and

seized one poor fellow by the arm, dragging the flesh and tendons from the bone.

At this moment we, and the men with us who had muskets, fired point-blank into its head, shattering it to pieces. We did not care to remain in the neighbourhood, for the natives said that we might very likely find more of these dangerous reptiles lurking in the canes, so we picked up the two wounded men, and, regaining the path, made the best of our way to the village.

On arriving we found that the poor fellow who had been first seized was past caring for, and the wound of the second was such that I did not see how we could do anything for him. Our guides said if we would leave him to a fetichman in the village he would save his life, though he would have to resign himself to the loss of his hand. I was very much astonished at this, for I did not see how these savages could pretend to amputate a limb; and the unfortunate fellow had the bone between his wrist and elbow all bared of the flesh, which was hanging in ribbons. Fortunately there was no great flow of blood, or else he would have been dead before then.

Hatibu at once said that if the fetichman could do anything for him he would pay him well; and the surgeon soon appeared. He ordered a fire to be lit and a pot placed on it and filled with porridge, and as soon as this was boiling fast he, with a very sharp knife, dissected the elbow-joint of the wounded man, who was held by four strong men to prevent struggling. The fore arm was removed, and then the bleeding stump plunged into the boiling porridge.

When the porridge had cooled down the stump was withdrawn, and it was encased in a great clot of the porridge, over which the surgeon tied a piece of oiled grass-cloth. He then said that all the care now necessary would be to keep the stump safe from blows until the cake of porridge came off naturally and easily. This would be in about three weeks, when we would find the wound healed up, and the man, save for the lack of his arm, as well as ever he was in his life.

The operator was told that if he would return with us to our camp in the morning he should be amply rewarded for his skill and care. Then we began to make further inquiries about our projected hippopotami-spearing, and we were told that the fetichman himself would take us to their track. All that he asked was that we would implicitly obey his directions, and that unless in imminent danger we would not fire off a gun, for the report of a musket at night would alarm the whole country. To all this we agreed.

An hour before sunset we left the village, and following a narrow path through fields of Indian corn we came to a place where the bank of the lagoon was some four feet above the surface, and where the hippopotami, in their nightly searches for food, had broken down a passage five or six feet wide. On either side we ensconced ourselves so as to wait for the brutes landing.

Before the sun went down we were interested and astonished by remarking the extraordinary number of birds that came from the lagoon and flew away to their resting-places in the surrounding woods, and the noise of ducks and other water-fowl that were calling to their companions previous to seeking their night’s lodgings in the reeds. As soon as it was dark all was quiet, except for the croaking of innumerable frogs, that seemed, now that they were relieved from the fear of attacks by storks and other feathered enemies, to be resolved to enjoy themselves by making night hideous with their tuneless notes. As I listened to them I could almost imagine that I was close to some huge ship-building yards, and that innumerable calkers and smiths were busy plying their noisy trades.

We waited for some time, keeping quite still and quiet. I began to think that the hippopotami must have chosen some other place for their night’s grazing-ground, when Hatibu gripped me by the arm and said—

“Listen, Franki, listen!”

I listened most intently, and soon I heard the sound of blowing and snorting, which gradually grew nearer; then I heard splashing and sounds of the huge beasts we were waiting for wallowing in the mud and water as they made their way to the landing-place. Presently a great dark mass came up from the lagoon and passed close by. I seized my spear, ready to plunge it into the flank of the beast as he passed. The fetichman whispered to us to wait, for if we wounded this one he would turn back into the lagoon, and all our hopes of a night’s sport would be destroyed. Slowly and cautiously the great animal made his way past us, and when about twenty yards from the bank he gave a great roar, which was answered by others that were still in the lagoon. This was evidently a signal that the way was clear, for he was immediately followed by no less than twenty hippopotami of all sizes, the last being a half-grown one.

The fetichman now gave the signal for the attack to commence. I plunged my spear, a heavy iron-hafted weapon, into the side of the last one, and felt Hatibu and others striking it at the same time. At the same moment one of the natives set fire to a great pile of dry grass and reeds which had been collected, and the flames blazing up threw a light on the scene. Other fires were instantly lighted, and the hippopotami, evidently confused by the light of the flames, did not seem to know which way to turn. The one we had first stabbed was killed on the spot; and now we all, natives and our own people, rushed in among the herd and stabbed indiscriminately at any one of the beasts we could reach. This was not unaccompanied by risk and danger; for the animals, though confused and surprised, kept making rushes and charges at their assailants, and it was only by exercising the utmost caution and agility that we could avoid being knocked over and trampled under their feet, which would have been certain death.

The scene was an impressive one. The lurid light of the flames shone on the shiny hides of the animals. The figures of the hunters, dealing wounds on every side, looked like wild men; and their yells and cries as they made a successful thrust were mingled with the roars and cries of the wounded animals, which tried in vain to break away. Being met on every side by fresh opponents thrusting at them with their spears and brandishing masses of burning reeds torn from the fires, they headed back again.

At last the fires began to burn low, and half-a-dozen of the animals, which had been driven together in the middle of our circle of attack, made a determined rush to the lagoon, and though one fell under repeated wounds just before reaching the water, the rest made their escape. We now looked to the results of our ambush, and found that fifteen hippopotami had fallen victims to our spears; but although every one of us had tales to tell of hairbreadth escapes, not one of our party had received any injury.

The fetichman and other natives were delighted with the results of the night’s work, for they said the carcasses would afford a plentiful supply of meat both for them and us, and the hippopotami would now avoid that side of the lagoon for many months, and their crops would be safe from their depredations. Hatibu, who had agreed that the tusks should fall to our share, was pleased with such an addition to the value of what we were conveying to the coast.

These tusks we cut out at once, and it now being midnight we returned to the village to rest, leaving the work of skinning and dividing the bodies till the morning. A hut was given to me and Hatibu to sleep in, and, fatigued by our long day and the work of slaughter in which we had been engaged, we were soon slumbering soundly. I dreamed of our onslaught, and I thought that the animals commenced beating drums, and had muskets and were using them against us. At last I awoke thinking that the biggest of all the animals was pointing at me a musket as large as a thirty-two pounder, and soon I found that drums certainly were beating in all directions, and that there was a sound of distant musketry fire.

CHAPTER XXIII.

TROUBLES WITH THE NATIVES.

The fetichman and all his people had also turned out, and any foolish word or action might have brought on a conflict the results or termination of which no one could have foreseen. Hatibu called out and said that we were Tipolo’s people, and he asked if Tipolo had not always paid for all he had received, and if he was not friends with the whole country when they did not molest him. “But,” said he, “remember Tipolo is strong and has many guns, and if his people are hurt he will eat up his enemies.”

The fetichman said this was true, but the drums were saying that the strangers had been robbing the villages, and had made people prisoners; and even now, as some had attempted to escape, two had been shot, and others that got away had told their friends; and there was war between the people on the other side of the river and those travelling with us.

I had often heard of news being conveyed by drums, but never so detailed and elaborate as this; but Hatibu said he could believe it all, and now proposed to have a talk with the fetichman and settle what should be done.

When I had first awoke dawn was just breaking, and now it was daylight, and we would be able to make our way to camp quickly unless hindered by the natives on this side of the Luama throwing in their lot with those on the other bank. To prevent this Hatibu put forth all his powers of argument and persuasion, and at last the fetichman consented to accompany us to camp, and with Hatibu to endeavour to arrange terms of peace.

No sooner had he consented than we set off and made our way to the river. While some made their way along the banks others paddled up in canoes. By nine o’clock we reached our camp, where we found Bilal anxiously awaiting our arrival. He said that the day before, soon after we were gone, two chiefs and their followers had come into the part of the camp occupied by the people, and had taken advantage of Tipolo sending a caravan to the coast to protest against the thieving of provisions, and also to ask for the release of two women caught while fishing near the river by these ruffians and made slaves.

The demands of the native chiefs were moderate enough. They offered to give a tusk of ivory for the freedom of the two women, and asked for a promise that all the corn, plantains, goats, and other things required by the men in the caravan should be paid for. But the men with us, being over-confident in the possession of guns, refused to do anything, took the ivory, and seized upon the two chiefs and some of their followers. The rest, seeing this, made off, and all got away clear, except two who were shot down.

The men who got away roused the whole country and just before daybreak the drums were beaten in the villages. The prisoners, who were somewhat carelessly guarded, then attempted to escape, and all had done so except one of the two chiefs and another man, who were killed while trying to get away. This had occasioned the firing we had heard in the morning, and large bodies of armed men assembled all round our camp with their spears and wooden shields.

These people were now taunting their enemies and daring them to come out and fight. Both sides were afraid of one another—the natives fearing to come within range, and our troublesome fellow-travellers not daring to go out into the woods for fear of losing the advantage which the possession of guns gave them in an open place. When we arrived Hatibu at once sent for the leaders of the men who had occasioned all this trouble. He spoke his mind very plainly to them, saying that they were endangering not only their own lives and belongings, which he did not value overmuch, but also all Tipolo’s ivory and property. He would tell all the big traders of their conduct, and they would never again be able to come into Manyuema by attaching themselves to the parties of men who wished to deal honourably and honestly.

After much talk and a great deal of abuse, Hatibu said he would try to patch up a peace through the people who had come with us from the village where we had passed the night. Unless, however, the aggressors agreed to terms, he and all Tipolo’s men would make common cause with the natives; for he had no wish to be delayed or to have to make his way through a country hostile to us, as there were many places we should have to pass where we would be cut off to a man.

At last his proposals were agreed to. Our friends went out in front of the camp and beat a drum, and then some men from among those in the woods came and spoke. After a little a messenger came to Hatibu to say that the natives would listen to what any of Tipolo’s men had to say. I went out with them, and found that though they looked very fierce and formidable they had such a fear of our guns that they were very willing to come to terms. They only asked now that the two women should be released, and that some cloth and beads should be given to bury with the men who had been killed, so that these should not appear in the next world bare and naked.

To this we readily assented, and as those who caused the disturbance had nothing, Hatibu, out of Tipolo’s stores, gave what was required, and took a writing from them that the amount they had to pay should be settled when we arrived at Kawele on Lake Tanganyika, which from the way it was spoken of I expected to find quite a civilized place. To cement the treaty a great fetich had to be made, which the fetichman who had conducted the negotiations superintended. First of all a fowl was brought and killed, and the guns of our people and the spears and shields of some of the natives were sprinkled with its blood. It was said that if they broke the treaty their weapons would do damage to themselves, and not to those against whom they were directed. After this an earthen pot full of water was brought, into which sundry bits of stick and dirt were put, and, to render it a still more powerful charm, there were added a charge of gunpowder and a small scrap of paper on which Hatibu had made some marks. Every one took a sip, and then we all parted, apparently the best friends in the world.

Next morning, however, we found that the women had not been given up as agreed, and Hatibu had to go in person and insist upon their release. This obstinacy on the part of those who had caused us all this trouble led to a delay of another day; and next morning, when we at last started, Hatibu told me he would push on with all speed with Tipolo’s people and let the others keep up with him or not as they liked. Hatibu wanted us to get away from Kawele before the rainy season commenced, or we should be much troubled by the streams we should have to pass before we got to Unyanyembe, where he said there were many Arabs, and whence communication with the coast was constant and easy.

Following this determination we made very long marches—as long indeed as the poor wretches of slaves carrying the ivory could possibly make—and in four or five days more we came to a range of steep and mountainous hills. According to Hatibu, these formed the termination of the country called Manyuema by the Arabs, and, until Tipolo had managed to make friends with some of the chiefs, they had been considered by many as a barrier to any advance westwards or northwards.

Climbing these mountains took us a whole day. In ravines on their sides I saw some of the tallest trees I ever remember having seen; indeed I do not think that the tallest among them could have been under three hundred feet in height. This climb was very severe on the unfortunate slaves who were carrying the ivory. Besides the physical labour which they had to endure, they seemed to lose all heart at passing what to them seemed the limit of their native land. Hitherto they had hoped that by some fortunate chance they might regain their freedom; but from this day many of them seemed to droop and die without any apparent illness—doubtless simply from lack of wish to live now that they despaired of ever again seeing their own country.

Notwithstanding this, Hatibu forced on our march, the Wanyamwesi and Zanzibar men all carrying ivory when necessary, and in an extraordinarily short time we reached the shores of Lake Tanganyika. I remember some of the names of the countries we hurried through—Uhiya, Ubudjwa, and Uguhba. Some of the people had most extravagant head-dresses, something resembling a huge chignon, made of bark, and with a piece like a tongue hanging out of the middle of it. Others disfigured themselves by perforating their upper lips and inserting in the hole a piece of circular wood or stone, which caused it to project like a duck’s bill, and which, while certainly no ornament, could have been of no manner of use. The women, apparently to make up for their lack of clothing, were most elaborately tattooed in patterns which were by no means unpleasing all over the fronts of their bodies. I remember the day that I came upon streams running eastward, and I was glad at the sign that we were really making our way now towards that bourn of my hopes, the east coast of Africa. I have also a remembrance of some hot springs where all our travel-worn company enjoyed a most refreshing bath. But though I had thought myself equal to my companions in endurance, I found myself so tired at the end of each day’s march that I was glad to eat what food was provided me, and then to rest till the word was given to resume our toilsome way.

The day before we reached the Tanganyika we saw its blue waters gleaming in the sun as we crossed the summit of a range of hills. As I saw this great inland sea sparkling, as it seemed, at our feet, I could not believe that it was still many weary hours’ march from us; but so it proved, the hills which we had crossed being much higher than I had supposed. On reaching the lake we went to a village called, I think, Ruanda, where the head-man had been put in charge of some huge canoes belonging to Tipolo which had been hauled up on shore, sheds being built over to protect them from the weather.

One of these canoes was over seventy feet long, all hewed out of one enormous log, and so large that I could only just manage to look over her side when standing on the ground by her, and I could not stretch across her. Two others had their bottoms all of one piece, with topsides made of planks nailed to rough ribs, and small poops and forecastles. The trees out of which these canoes were made had grown in the mountains of Uyoma. They were pointed out to me on the west of the lake, lying to the north of where we had struck it.

With much ado and trouble we got the canoes launched, and then found that the two built-up ones wanted calking, and had to be hauled ashore again. I was astonished now to see Hatibu, Bilal, and other Zanzibar men at this work. They did it well, using raw cotton, which, when water gets to it, swells exceedingly and makes the seams stanch and tight. All having been prepared, we embarked all our ivory and the greater portion of our slaves, who were dreadfully frightened at going on such an expanse of water as Tanganyika, though they were by no manner of means bad hands in the smaller canoes they were accustomed to on their own rivers. We gave the remainder to the chief who had been in charge of the canoes for the care he had taken of them, and also to pay for men to assist in pulling the canoes across the lake.

Our fellow-travellers who had been lagging behind for part of the way, had been making extraordinary exertions to overtake us, but could not possibly get their loaded men up before we left. However, a messenger arrived from them just as we were going to leave, and begged us to wait and give them a passage across to Kawele with as. “There,” said Hatibu, “it is always the same. Tipolo has boats, and these men want them; Tipolo has guns, and these men shelter themselves behind them. They always cry to Tipolo to help them, and then they do things which are against Tipolo’s words. They find trouble, and cry to Tipolo.” As there was only room for our party, Hatibu refused to wait, but said he would send the canoes back, and they could have the use of them to get to Kawele. Even this was more than I thought they deserved, for they had been nothing but a hindrance and a danger to us from the time we left Nyangwe.

CHAPTER XXIV.

ACROSS TANGANYIKA.

As soon as the sun had gone down we manned the canoes. The one in which Hatibu and I took our passage was partly manned by Zanzibar people, who pulled rude oars made of a large round piece of wood nailed on to the end of a short pole. The other two, which had crews hired to us by the chief who had taken care of this squadron of Tipolo’s, were propelled by paddles, having very small blades shaped like the ace of clubs. All our people, except the unfortunate slaves, were very merry at the prospect of reaching a place where they would meet their countrymen, and have an opportunity of learning the news from and gossiping about their beloved island and Unyanyembe, and where they could strut and swagger and brag of having been in Manyuema, and lord it over those who had never been to the west of the lake. As they laboured at the oars they sang songs which seemed destitute of tune, but contained allusions to good times they were going to have, and praised themselves as brave and fine fellows who had done so much; and when the man who sang the solo parts made a special hit all joined in the chorus with zest and pulled their hardest, making their clumsy craft fairly dance over the water.

The scenery on the lake on this beautiful night was inexpressibly lovely. The moon, which was a little past her first quarter, threw a gentle silvery light over the water, and allowed us to distinguish the outlines of the mountains by which it was surrounded. Till the moon set I sat on the poop close by Hatibu, who was steering. I was simply enjoying myself, the cool night air on the lake and the luxury of moving without labour being great. When the moon sank behind the western mountains, and the men, though they still pulled lustily, gave up singing, I lay down, and covering myself with some mats, I watched the glorious stars of the tropics, like golden lamps hanging in the blue-black heavens, till I fell asleep to dream of my father and the Petrel.

I was dreaming that I was on board the Petrel when she was struck by a squall, and losing my footing had rolled down into the lee-scuppers; and I woke to find that the canoe was pitching about in an angry and confused sea, and that I had been rolled from where I was sleeping to the other side of the poop. I at once got hold of the rail and, raising myself up, looked round. Not a star was visible now, and a heavy breeze blowing had caused a nasty cross-sea to rise. Of the other two canoes I could see nothing; and our own was shipping a good deal of water, keeping four or five men constantly at work baling, while the slaves were lying about moaning and bewailing their unhappy lot, and suffering from all the miseries of sea-sickness.

The wind had come up from the southward and eastward, and we had been driven so considerably to the northward of Kungwe, that instead of making the point we would have to put in under the shelter of another called Kabogo. As this would have the effect of considerably shortening our voyage to Kawele, it may be imagined that I did not at all mind, and in about a couple of hours we reached a small inlet where we were sheltered from wind and sea. Here was an old camp, and we soon had fires lighted to dry our belongings and cook our food, and even the poor slaves seemed to be happy to have escaped from what to them had appeared the dangers of the lake.

As soon as the canoe was cleared out, and some men set to work to calk the leaks which had been caused by the knocking about we had received, Hatibu proposed to me to walk up to the top of the cape and look out for the other canoes.

When we arrived there we could see one of our consorts still battling with the waves, and evidently attempting to get into a large bay which lay between us and Kungwe, so as to pull up to that headland in smooth water. Of the other, which was the large one made of a single tree, we could not see any sign, and Hatibu said he was much afraid that in such a sea as we had encountered she might have capsized and, together with her occupants and valuable cargo, been lost. He ordered a big fire to be made as a signal to the canoe we saw that we had arrived. When it blazed up we saw her alter her course, and soon after she came into the inlet where we had found shelter.

As soon as she arrived we made anxious inquiries if her crew had any news of the missing craft; but they had seen nothing of her since leaving the islands. As the hours passed on and nothing could be seen by the look-outs we had stationed to watch, we were all of us obliged to agree with Hatibu that she had probably been capsized.

I pointed out that though she might upset and roll her cargo out she could not possibly sink, and proposed that we should go in search of her on the chance of finding some of her crew clinging to her. This proposal was not welcomed with enthusiasm, the crews of both canoes saying they were too tired to put to sea again, and before we could get any distance away from land it would be night. I persisted that we should search for our comrades, and at last my arguments prevailed so far that Hatibu decided at daylight the next morning to look for her.

We all felt gloomy and depressed owing to the non-arrival of the canoe, and at night round the camp-fires there were none of the songs and jokes which had been common the night before. At sunset Hatibu was going to recall the look-outs and let the fire die out, but I persuaded him to keep it burning, for there might be some chance of the absent ones being still afloat and safe, and if they saw the fire they would naturally come to it and not go to Kungwe.

To this he agreed, and it was well he did so, for in the middle of the night, after the moon had set, we heard the songs of the paddlers, and the missing canoe glided into the inlet. The story of her crew was a very short and simple one. About an hour after starting they found they had left two of their number behind, and had to put back for them; then when the wind had sprung up they had thought it best not to start until it lulled again, which was not until the afternoon. They then shaped their course for Kungwe, but soon after sunset they saw our fire on Kabogo and made for that place.

All was now life and spirit, and notwithstanding the time of night the men began dancing and singing, heedless of the hard day’s work which lay before them. Long before daylight the canoes were loaded, and we pushed out into the lake and commenced coasting northwards towards Kawele. A fresh southerly breeze soon came up. We landed to cut down some bamboos, on which we spread mats and cloths; and so we extemporized some sails, which helped us on our way merrily. About two in the afternoon we passed the long red promontory formed by the mud brought down by the swift and turbulent Malagarazi, and could see the point behind which Kawele was situated. Though the breeze died away with the sun the men kept stoutly to their work, and when they at last ceased from pulling we were only half an hour from our goal. The only reason for not going on was the unseemliness in a caravan from dreaded Manyuema with wealth of ivory and slaves coming in with as little ceremony as a fishing-canoe. It was necessary that there should be firing of guns and beating of drums and waving of flags, and that the ivory should be carried up before all beholders to show the wealth Tipolo had gained by pushing his journeys so far afield.

As soon as the first signs of dawn appeared behind the eastern hills all were on the alert, and finery, of the existence of which I had never dreamed, was donned by all. Spears and shields from Manyuema, and trophies of our fight beyond Nyangwe, were displayed, drums were placed on poop and forecastle, and from the stem of our ship Hatibu displayed a white and red flag, on which were written quotations from the Koran. Our men wore head-dresses of zebras’ manes and buffaloes’ tails, bracelets of beads and copper were put on hands and wrists, and a liberal allowance of powder was served out to all who had the good fortune to possess muskets.

As soon as all these preparations were made we shoved off, and the whole of the men in the three canoes struck up a song of rejoicing, the only mournful faces being those of the unfortunate slaves, whose numbers by death and sale had greatly dwindled since the time we had left Nyangwe. People on shore soon heard the sound of our songs, and little knots of gazers clustered on the dwarf red cliffs, eagerly pointing out to each other the boats of Tipolo returning from Manyuema. Some rushed off to convey the news to the Arabs and the freemen, the men from “the island” and the sea, that news had come, and good news, of those who had crossed the lake and ventured into strange and distant lands.

Soon drums and horns were heard, and on coming close to shore and rounding a point we came in sight of the settlement of Kawele, with its Arab houses, and its busy market in full swing. Among the market people we could see Arabs in their white dresses making their way to the landing-place, their followers shouting and dancing, beating drums, and blowing horns. To this we answered right royally; for never did I think that such a volume of sound could be emitted from human throats as the shouts and yells to which our men gave vent as we paddled and pulled past the landing, firing our guns, beating our drums, and blowing our horns. I caught the infection and shouted with the best of them, and like a madman blazed away with a gun Hatibu had given me.

Three times did we pass up and down before the landing. We then stopped and drew up in line abreast, with our bows pointing towards the beach, and after a short pause dashed forward to it, redoubling if possible the rapidity of our fire and the noise we were making.

No sooner did the canoes touch the shore than they were seized by hundreds of willing hands and dragged up high and dry. In an instant Hatibu and his men were in the arms of their friends, who seized upon the ivory and loads to convey them to Tipolo’s house, even the women and children joining, tiny urchins of four and five begging to be allowed to carry something, no matter what, belonging to the men who had come from Manyuema.

The scene was one which it was impossible to describe. There were first of all the market-people from all parts of the shores of the lake, who in the daily market held at Kawele find a sale for their goods—fish (fresh and dried), meat, ghee, fowls, eggs, hemp from Ubwari, pottery and iron from Uvira, salt from Uvinza, ivory, and slaves—each of the tribes being distinguished by varieties in tattooing, manner of hair-dressing, and shape of their weapons. Then there were the Arabs and their followers from Zanzibar, and their Wanyamwesi porters, on this occasion suspending their buying and selling to welcome their friends who had indeed returned alive from Manyuema.

It was some hours before the ferment and turmoil caused by our arrival had calmed down, and I was feeling sad at there being no one special friend to welcome me, as even the meanest of my companions found chums and admirers to listen to the wonderful tales he had to relate; but soon I found that good fellow Hatibu had not forgotten me, for a room was cleared for me, and such a meal as even in Tipolo’s house at Nyangwe I had never dreamed of was provided for me—curry, rice, fish, beef, wheaten cakes, sweetmeats, butter, milk, coffee. If, like Jack the Giant Killer, I had been provided with a leathern wallet, or had possessed the appetites of Gargantua or Dando the oyster-eater, I could not have done justice to the meal which was spread for me. Hatibu kept on urging me to eat, saying that Kawele in Ujiji was indeed a land of plenty, and the Arabs would not be pleased unless I ate all that was sent me.

After a time Hatibu was convinced this was an impossibility, and he led me away to where the principal Arabs were assembled under the veranda of a big house to learn news of Tipolo and Manyuema, and in return to tell us what had happened since Tipolo’s brother had quitted Kawele. Every man who had gone to Manyuema was asked after by name. When told that one was dead, the response was, “It is God’s will,” and when told that one was alive, “How many slaves and how much ivory has he got?” Stories of the fight in which alone of all our party Hatibu, Bilal, and I had escaped were listened to with attention, and great was the astonishment manifested that I, a mzungu (a white man), should have survived all the difficulties and hardships I had encountered.

Hatibu and his companions had as many questions to ask about the fate of those they had left behind, and how the road was in front. The road, we heard, was good, and the people peaceful, the only trouble that had lately occurred being an attack made on a caravan by the Watuta (a predatory nomad tribe), who had been beaten off with severe loss, and would not likely give trouble again for a long time.

All indeed seemed couleur de rose, and when I slept at night I looked upon the time as being close at hand when I again should see my countrymen and hear my native tongue.