I halted to collect carriage and to await the arrival of the twenty-two promised porters for about a fortnight at that hot-bed of pestilence, Zungomero, where we nearly found “wet graves.” Our only lodging was under the closed eaves of a hut built African-fashion, one abode within the other. The roof was a sieve, the walls were systems of chinks, and the floor was a sheet of mud. Outside the rain poured pertinaciously, as if K’hutu had been situated in the “black north” of Hibernia; the periodical S. and S.W. winds were raw and chilling, the gigantic vegetation was sopped to decay, and the tangled bank of the Mgeta River, lying within pistol-shot of our hovels, added its quotum of miasma. The hardships of a march in inclement weather had taken effect upon the Baloch guard: expecting everything to be done for them they endured seven days of wet and wind before they could find energy to build a shed, and they became almost mutinous because left to make shelter for themselves. They stole the poultry of the villagers like gipsies, they quarrelled violently with the slaves, they foully abused their temporal superior, Said bin Salim, and three of the thirteen were accused of grossly insulting the women of the Wak’hutu. The latter charge, after due investigation, was “not proven:” we had resolved, in case of its being brought home, severely to flog the culprits or to turn them out of camp.

On the 27th July, Sayf bin Salim returned to Dut’humi with his gang of thirty slaves, who also had distinguished themselves by laying violent hands on sheep, goats, and hens. Their patroon had offered to carry our baggage half-way over the mountains to Ugogo, for a sum of sixty dollars; thinking his conditions exorbitant, I stipulated for conveyance the whole way. He refused, declaring that he was about to organise another journey up-country. I doubted his assertion, as he was known to have audaciously defrauded Musa Mzuri, an Indian merchant, who had entrusted him with a large venture of ivory at Kazeh: yet he spoke truth; nearly a year afterwards we met him on his march to the “Sea of Ujiji.” During his visit he had begged for drugs, tea, coffee, sugar, spices, everything, but the stores were already far wasted by the improvidence of the Goanese, who seemed to think that they were living in the vicinity of a bazar. To punish me for not engaging his gang, he caused the desertion of nine porters hired at Dut’humi, by declaring that I was bearing them into slavery. As they carried off, in addition to half their pay, sundry sundries and Muinyi Wazira’s sword, I sent three slave-musketeers to recover the stolen goods per force if necessary. With respect to the cloth, Sayf bin Salim wrote back to say that as I could well afford the loss of a few “domestics,” he would not compel the fugitives to restore it: at the same time that he did himself the honour to return the sword, which I might want. This man proved himself the sole “base exception” to the hospitality and the courteousness of the Omani Arabs. I forwarded an official complaint to H. M. the Sayyid Majid, but the arm of Zanzibar has not yet reached K’hutu.

At Zungomero five fresh porters were engaged, making up the whole party to a total of 132 souls. They were drafted into the men of Muinyi Wazira, whose open indulgence in stingo had made his society at meals distasteful to Moslem sticklers for propriety. He was an able interpreter, speaking five African dialects, which is not, however, in these lands a remarkable feat, and when sober, he did at first the work of three men. But linguists are a dangerous race, as the annals of old India prove:—I doubt a bilingual Eastern man, and if he can speak three languages I do not doubt him at all. Moreover, true to his semi-servile breed—his dam was a Mzaramo slave, and his sire a half-caste Wawahili—he began well and he finished badly. His deep undying fondness for pombe or holcus beer, kept him in alternate states of maudlin apathy or of violent pugnacity. He had incurred heavy debts upon the coast. After his arrival at Unyamwezi, letters were sent urging upon the Arabs his instant arrest, but fortunately for him the bailiff and the jailor are not, as the venerable saying declares the schoolmaster to be, abroad. Muinyi Wazira, however, did not sight the Sea of Ujiji in my service, and his five messmates, who each received 15 dollars’ worth of cloth for the journey thither and back, were not more fortunate.

Before marching from Zungomero into the mountains I will order, for the reader’s inspection, a muster of the party, and enlist his sympathies in behalf of the unhappy being who had to lead it.

Said bin Salim may pass on: he has been described in Blackwood (February, 1858) and he scarcely deserves a second notice. He is followed by his four slaves, including the boy Faraj, who will presently desert, and without including his acting wife, the lady Halimah. That young person’s pug-dog countenance and bulky charms seem to engross every thought not appropriated to himself. One day, however, my ears detect the loud voice of wail proceeding from the lady Halimah, accompanying methinks the vigorous performance of a stick; the peccadillo was—but I eschew scandal and request the lady to advance.

My companion’s gun carrier, Seedy Mubarak Bombay, a negro from Uhiao, has twice been sketched in Blackwood (March, 1858 and September, 1859), he also requires no further celebrity. My henchman, Muinyi Mabruki, had been selected by his fellow-tribeman Bombay at Zanzibar; he was the slave of an Arab Shaykh, who willingly let him for the sum of 5 dollars per mensem. Mabruki is the type of the bull-headed negro, low-browed, pig-eyed, pug-nosed, and provided by nature with that breadth and power, that massiveness and muscularity of jaw, which characterise the most voracious carnivors. He is at once the ugliest and the vainest of the party: his attention to his toilette knows no limit. His temper is execrable, ever in extremes, now wild with spirits, then dogged, depressed, and surly, then fierce and violent. He is the most unhandy of men, he spoils everything entrusted to him, and presently he will be forbidden to engage in any pursuit beyond ass-leading and tent-pitching. These worthies commenced well. They excited our admiration by braving noon-day suns, and by snoring heavily through the rawest night with nothing to warm them but a few smouldering embers. In an evil hour compassion-touched, I threw over their shoulders a pair of English blankets, which in the shortest time completely demoralised them. They learned to lie a-bed o’ mornings, and when called up their shrugged shoulders and shrinking forms were wrapped tightly round, lest the breath of dawn should visit them too roughly. Idleness marked them for her own: messmates and sworn brothers; they made at the halt huts out of hail, lest they should be called to do work. As a rule, however, Englishmen have the art of spoiling Eastern servants: we begin with the utmost stretch of exertion, and we expect this high pressure system to last. Of course the men’s energies are soon exhausted, their indolence and apathy contrast with their former activity; we conceive dislikes to them, and we end by dismissing them. This, however, was not the case with Bombay and Mabruki. They returned with us to Zanzibar, and we parted à l’aimable, especially with the former, who, after a somewhat protracted fit of the “blue devils,” became once more, what he before had been, a rara avis in the lands, an active servant and an honest man.

Regard for the Indian perusers of these pages, who know by experience how “banal” a character is the half-caste oriental Portuguese, prevents my offering anything but a sketch of Valentine A. and Gaetano B. I had hired them at Bombay for Co.’s rs. 20 per mensem, besides board and lodging. Scions of that half Pariah race which yearly issues from Goa, Daman and Diu to gather rupees as “cook boys,” dry-nurses, and “buttrels,” in wealthy British India, the hybrids had their faults: a pride of caste, and a contempt for Turks and heathen, heretics and infidels, which often brought them to grief; a fondness for acting triton amongst the minnows; a certain disregard for the seventh commandment, in the matter of cloth and clothes, medicines and provisions; a constitutional repugnance to “Signior Sooth;” a wastefulness of other men’s goods, and a peculiar tenacity of their own; a deficiency of bodily strength and constitutional vigour; a voracity which induced indigestion once a day; and, finally, a habit of frequent phlebotomy which, deferred, made them sick. They had also their merits. Valentine was a good specimen of the neat-handed and ready-witted Indian: in the shortest time he learned to talk Kisawahili sufficiently for his own purposes, and to read a chronometer and thermometer sufficiently for ours: he had, however, one blemish, an addiction to “fudging,” which rendered the severest overseeing necessary. A “Davy do a’ things,” he was as clever at sewing a coat as at cooking a curry. Gaetano had a curious kind of tenderness when acting nurse, and, wonderful to relate, an utter disregard for danger: he would return alone through a night-march of jungle to fetch his forgotten keys, and would throw himself into an excited mob of natives with a fearlessness which, contrasted with his weakly body, never failed to turn their wrath into merriment. He suffered severely from the secondaries of fever, which, in his case, as in his master’s, assumed a cerebral form. At Msene he was seized with fits resembling epilepsy; and as he seemed every month to become more addle-headed and scatter-brained, more dirty and untidy, more wasteful and forgetful, more loath to work without compulsion, and more prone to start and feed the fire with ghee when it was the scarcest of luxuries, I could not but attribute many of his delinquencies to disease.

The Baloch are now to appear. My little party were servants of His Highness the Sayyid Majid of Zanzibar, who had detached them as an escort upon the usual “deputation-allowance” of ten dollars per mensem. They had received the command of their master to accompany me wherever I might please to march, and they had been rendered responsible to him for the safety of my person and property. As has been mentioned, Lieut.-Col. Hamerton had advanced to them before departure a small sum for outfit, and had promised them, on condition of good conduct, an ample reward on the part of H. M.’s Government after return to Zanzibar. These men were armed with the usual matchlock, the Cutch sabre,—one or two had Damascus blades,—the Indian hide-targe, decorated with its usual tinsel, the long khanjar or dagger, extra matches, flints and steels, and toshdan, or ammunition pouches, sensibly distributed about their persons.

The Jemadar Mallok led from Zanzibar seven warriors of fame, yclept severally, Mohammed, Shahdad, Ismail, Belok, Abdullah, Darwaysh, and the Seedy Jelai; at Kaole he persuaded to follow his fortunes, Khudabakhsh, Musa, Gul Mohammed, Riza, and Hudul a tailor boy.

The Jemadar Mallok is a monocular, and the Sanscrit proverb declares:

Mallok is no exception to this rule of the “Kana.” He is a man with fine Italian features, somewhat disfigured by the small-pox: but his one eye never looks you “in the face,” and there is an expression about the mouth which forbids implicit trust in his honesty. He proclaims himself to be somewhat fonder of fighting than of feeding, yet suspicious circumstances led me to believe that he was one of those whom the Arabs describe as “first at the banquet and last at the brawl.” He began with a display of zeal and activity which died young; he lapsed, through grumbling and discontent, into open insubordination as we progressed westward, or from home; he became submissive and somewhat servile as we returned to the coast, and when he took leave of me he shed a flood of crocodile’s tears.

Mohammed is the Rish Safid, or greybeard of the caravan, and without a greybeard no eastern caravan considers itself en règle. Of these indispensable veterans I had two specimens; but of what use they were, except to teach hot youth the cold caution of eld, I never could divine,—vieux soldat, vielle bête. In the civilised regiment age is not venerable in the private, as every grey hair is a proof that he has not merited or has forfeited promotion; so in the East, where there is a paucity of competitors in the race of fortune, the Rish Safid of humble fortune may be safely set down as a fool or a foolish knave, and though his escort is sought, he generally proves himself to be no better than he should have been.

Mohammed’s body is apparently hard as a rock, his mind is soft as putty, and his comrades, disappointed in their hopes of finding brains behind those wrinkles, derisively compare him to a rotten walnut, and say before his face, “What! grey hairs and no wits?” He has invested the fifteen dollars advanced to him as outfit by Lieut.-Col. Hamerton, in a slave-boy, whom presently he will exchange for a slave-girl, despite all the inuendoes of his friends. He was at first a manner of peace-maker, but soon my refusal to enlist and pay his slave as a hired porter acted like Ithuriel’s spear. This veteran of fractious temper and miserly habits ended, in a question of stinted rations, by drawing his sabre upon and cutting at his Jemadar; an offence which I was compelled to visit with a bastinado, inflicted out of the sight of man by the hand of Khudabakhsh.

Shahdad is the Chelebi of the party, the fast young man. He is decidedly not handsome. A figure short and trapu, a retrussed nose, small pigs’ eyes, a beard like a blackberry bush, and a crop of hair which, projecting its wiry waves in a deep long curtain from beneath a diminutive scarlet fez, makes his head appear top-heavy. Yet he does sad havoc amongst female hearts by means of his zeze or guitar, half a gourd with an arm to which is attached a single string, and by his lively accompaniment is a squeaking falsetto, which is here as fascinating and emollient to the sex as ever was the organ of Rubini in Europe. During a lengthened sojourn at Bombay he has enlarged his mind by the acquisition of the Hindostani tongue and of Indian trickery. He is almost the only Eastern whom I remember that abused the poor letter H like a thoroughbred Londoner. His familiarity with Anglo-Europeans, and his experience touching the facility of gulling them, has induced in him a certain proclivity for peculation, grumbling, and mutiny. His brother—or rather cousin, for in these lands all fellow-tribesmen are brethren—“Ismail” is a confirmed invalid, a man with a “broken mouth,” deeply sunken cheeks, and emaciated frame, who, though earnestly solicited to return eastwards, will persist in accompanying the party till he falls a victim to a chronic malady in Unyamwezi.

Belok is our snob; a youth of servile origin, with coarse features, wide mouth, everted lips, and a pert, or rather an impudent expression of countenance, which, acting as index to his troublesome character, at once prejudices the physiognomist against him. Belok’s comrades have reason to quote the Arab saw, “Defend me from the beggar become wealthy, and from the slave become a freeman!” He has invested his advance of salary in a youth; and the latter serves and works for the rest of the mess, who must patiently and passively endure the insolence of the master for fear of losing the offices of the man. After the fashion of a certain sort of fools, he applies the whole of his modicum of wit to mischief-making, and he succeeds admirably where better men, whose thoughts attempt a wider range, would fail. By his exertions the Baloch became, in point of social intercourse, not unlike the passengers of a ship bound on a long voyage: after the first month the society divides itself into two separate and adverse cliques; after the second it breaks up into little knots; and after the third it is a chequer-work of pairs and solitaires. Arrived at the “Pond of Ugogo,” I was compelled to address an official letter to Zanzibar, requesting the recal of Belok and his coadjutor in mischief, Khudabakhsh.

Abdullah is the type of the respectable, in fact, of the good young man. It is really pathetic to hear him recount, with accents broken by emotion, the “tale full of waters of the eye,”—the parting of an only son, who was led away to an African grave, from the aged widow his mamma; to listen to her excellent advice, and to his no less excellent resolves. He is capable of calling his bride elect, were such article a subject ever to be mentioned amongst Moslems, “his choicest blessing.” With an edifying mingling of piety and discipline, he never neglects the opportunity of standing in prayer behind the Jemadar Mallok, whose elevation to a superior grade—honneur oblige!—has compelled him to rub up a superficial acquaintance with the forms of devotion. Virtue in the abstract I revere; in the concrete I sometimes suspect. The good young man soon justified this suspicion by repeatedly applying to Said bin Salim for beads, in my name, which he converted to his own purposes.

Of Darwaysh little need be said. He is a youth about twenty-two years old, with a bulging brow, a pair of ferret-eyes, a “peaky” nose, a thin chin; in fact, with a face the quintessence of curiosity. He is the “brother”—that is to say, the spy—of the Jemadar, and his principal peculiarity is a repugnance to obeying an order because it is an order. With this individual I had at first many a passage of words. Presently prostrated in body and mind by severe disease, he obtained relief from European drugs; and from that time until the end of the journey, he conducted himself with a certain stiffness and decorum which contrasted pleasantly enough with the exceeding “bounce” of his earlier career.

The Seedy Jelai calls himself a Baloch, though palpably the veriest descendant of Ham. He resents with asperity the name of “Nigger,” or “Nig”—Jupiter Tonans has heard of the offensive dissyllable, which was a household word before the days of the Indian mutiny, but has he heard of the more offensive monosyllable which was forced upon the abbreviating Anglo-Saxon by the fatal necessity of requiring to repeat the word so frequently? Jelai clothes his long lank legs—cucumber-shinned and bony-kneed—in calico tights, which display the full deformity of those members; and taking a pride in the length of his mustachios, which distinguishes him from his African-born brethren, he twists them en croc like a hidalgo in the days of Gil Blas. The Seedy, judging from analogy, ought to be brave, but he is not. On the occasion of alarm in the mountains of Usagara, he privily proposed to his comrades to “bolt” and leave us. Moreover, on the “Sea of Ujiji,” where he was chosen as an escort, he ignobly deserted me.

Khudabakhsh was formed by nature to be the best man of the party; he has transformed himself into the worst. A man of broad and stalwart frame, with stern countenance, and a quietness of demeanour which usually argues sang-froid and persistency, his presence is in all points soldier-like and prepossessing. But his temper is unmanageable: he enters into a quarrel when certain of discomfiture; he is utterly reckless,—on one occasion he amused himself by blowing a charge of gunpowder into the calves of African warriors who were dancing in front of him;—and lastly, his innate propensity for backbiting, intrigue, and opposition to all authority, render him a dangerous member of the Expedition. He herds with Belok, whose tastes lie in the same line: he is the head and front of all mischief, and presently his presence will become insupportable.

Musa, a tall, gaunt, and dark-brown old man, is the assistant Rish Safid, or greybeard; in fact, the complement of “Greybeard Mohammed.” After a residence of twenty years at Mombasah, he has clean forgotten Persian; he speaks only a debased Mekrani dialect, and the Kisawahili, which, as usual with his tribe, he prefers. An old soldier, he compensates for want of youth and vigour by artfulness; an old traveller—nothing better distinguishes in these lands the veteran of the road from the griffin or greenhorn, than the careful and systematic consideration of his comforts—he carries the lightest matchlock, he starts in the cool of the morning, he presses forward to secure the best quarters, and throughout he thinks only of himself. His character has a want of wrath, which, despite his white hairs, causes him to be little regarded. Greybeard Mohammed is considered a fool; Greybeard Musa, an old woman. Yet he troubles himself little about the opinions of his fellows, he looks well after his morning and evening meals, his ghee, his pipe, and his sleeping mat; and knowing that he will last out all the novices, with enviable philosophy he casts ambition to the winds.

Gul Mohammed is the most civilised man of the party. He has straight and handsome features, of the old Grecian type, a reddish-brown skin—the skin by excellence—and a Central-Asian beard of largest dimensions. His mind is as civilised as his body; he is an adept after the fashion of his tribe, in divinity especially, in medicine and natural history; and when landing at Marka, he actually took the trouble to visit, for curiosity, the Juba River. Unfortunately, “Gul Mohammed” is a mixture of Baloch mountaineer-blood with the Sindhian of the plain, and the cross is, throughout the East, renowned for representing the worst points of both progenitors. Gul Mohammed is brave and treacherous, fair-spoken and detractive, honourable and dishonest, good-tempered and bad-hearted.

Of the Baloch remain Riza, and Hudul, the tailor-boy: the former is a kind of Darwaysh, utterly insignificant, but by no means so disagreeable as his fellows: the only marking corporeal peculiarity of the latter is a deficiency of skin; his mouth appears ever open, and his teeth resemble those of an old rabbit. His mental organisation has its petite pointe, its little twist; he is under the constant delusion that those who speak in unknown tongues are employed specially in abusing him. His first complaint was against the Goanese: as he could not understand a word of their language, it was dismissed with some derision; he then charged me to his comrades with his normal grievance, and in due time he felt aggrieved by my companion.

A proper regard to precedence induces me now to marshal the “sons of Ramji,” who acted as interpreters, guides, and war-men. They were armed with the old “Tower-musket,” which, loaded with nearly an ounce of powder, they never allowed to quit the hand; and with those antiquated German-cavalry sabres which find their way over all the East: their accoutrements were small leathern boxes, strapped to the waist, and huge cow-horns, for ammunition. The most part called themselves Muinyi (master), the title of an African freeman, because they had been received in pawn by the Banyan Ramji from their parents or uncles, who had forgotten to redeem the pledge, and they still claimed the honour of noble birth. Of these there were eight men under their Mtu Mku, or chief man, Kidogo—Anglicè, Mr. Little. Kidogo had preceded the Expedition, escorting the detachment of thirty-six Wanyamwezi porters to Zungomero, and he possessed great influence over his brother slaves, who all seemed to admire and to be proud of him. He was by no means a common man. “Natione magis quam ratione barbarus;” he had a fixed and obstinate determination: amongst these puerile, futile African souls he was exceptional as “a sage Sciote or a green horse.” His point of honour consisted in the resolve that his words should be held as Median laws, and he had, as the Africans say, a “large head,” namely, abundant self-esteem, that blessed quality which makes man independent of his fellows. Muinyi Kidogo is a short, thin, coal-black person, with a something arguing gentle blood in his tribe, the Wadoe Cannibals; he has a peaked beard, a bulging brow, close thin lips, a peculiar wall-eyed roll of glance, and a look fixed, when unobserved, with a manner of fascination which men felt. His attitude is always humble and deprecatory, he drops his chin upon the collar of reflection, he rarely speaks, save in dulcet tones, low, plaintive, and modulated; yet agreeing in every conceivable particular, he never fails to introduce a most pertinacious “but,” which brings him back precisely to his own starting-point. The vehemence of his manner, and the violence of his temper, win for him the fears of the porters; having a wife and children in Unyamwezi, he knows well the languages, the manners, and the customs of the people; he never hesitates, when necessary, to enforce his mild commands by a merciless application of the staff, or to air his blade and to fly at the recusant like a wild cat. In such moods, he is always seized by his friends, and led forcibly away, as if dangerous. To insure some regularity on the road, I ordered him to meet Said bin Salim and Muinyi Wazira every evening at my tent, for a “Mashauri,” or palaver, about the next day’s march and halt. The measure was rendered futile by Kidogo, who soon contrived so to browbeat the others, that they would not venture an opinion in his presence. As a chief, he would have been in the right position; as a slave, he was falsely placed, because determined not to obey. He lost no time in demanding that he and his brethren should be considered Askári, soldiers, whose sole duty it was to carry a gun; and he took the first opportunity of declaring that his men should not be under the direction of the Jemadar. Having received for answer that we could not all be Sultans, he retired with a “Ngema”—a “very well,” accompanied by a glance that boded little good. From that hour the “sons of Ramji” went wrong. Before, servilely civil, they waxed insolent; they learned their power—without them I must have returned to the coast—and they presumed upon it. They assumed the “swashing and martial outside” of valiant men: they disdained to be “mechanical;” they swore not to carry burdens; they objected to loading and leading the asses; they would not bring up articles left behind in the camp or on the road; they claimed the sole right of buying provisions; they arrogated to themselves supreme command over the porters; and they pilfered from the loads whenever they wanted the luxuries of meat and beer; they drank deep; and on more than one occasion they endangered the caravan by their cavalier proceedings with the fair sex. It was “water-painting” to complain; they had one short reply to all objections, namely, the threat of desertion. Preferring anything to risking the success of the Expedition, I was reduced to the bitter alternative of long-suffering, but it was with the hope of a revanche at some future time. The suffering was perhaps not wholly patient. Orientals advise the traveller “to keep his manliness in his pocket for braving it and ruffling at home.” Such, however, is not exactly the principle or the practice of an Englishman, who recognises a primary duty of commanding respect for himself, for his successors, and for the noble name of his nation. On the return of the Expedition, Kidogo proved himself a “serviceable villain,” but an extortionate; anything committed to him was, as the Arabs say, in “ape’s custody,” and the only remedy was to remove him from all power over the outfit.

Under the great Kidogo were the Muinyi Mboni, Buyuni, Hayja, and Jako; these four took precedence as being the sons of Diwans, whilst the commonalty was represented by the Muinyi Shehe, Mbaruko, Wulaydi, and Khamisi.

The donkey-men, five in number, had been hired at the rate of thirty dollars per head for the whole time of exploration. Their names were Musangesi, Sangora, Nasibu, Hasani, and Saramalla. Of their natures little need be said, except that they were a trifle less manageable than the “sons of Ramji:” perfect models of servile humanity, obstinate as asses and vicious as mules, gluttonous and lazy, noisy and overbearing, insolent and quarrelsome as slaves.

Lowest in rank, and little above the asses even in their own estimation, are the thirty-six Wanyamwezi Pagazi, or porters, who formed the transport-corps. Concerning these men and their burdens, a few words of explanation will be necessary.

In collecting a caravan the first step is to “make,” as the people say, a “Khambi,” or kraal. The Mtongi, or proprietor of the goods, announces, by pitching his tent in the open, and by planting his flag, that he is ready to travel; this is done because amongst the Wanyamwezi a porter who persuades others to enlist does it under pain of prosecution and fine-paying if a death or an accident ensue. Petty chiefs, however, and their kinsmen will bring with them in hope of promotion a number of recruits, sometimes all the male adults of a village, who then recognise them as headmen. The next step is to choose a Kirangozi or guide. Guides are not a peculiar class; any individual of influence and local knowledge who has travelled the road before is eligible to the post. The Kirangozi must pay his followers to acknowledge his supremacy, and his Mganga or medicine-man for providing him with charms and prophylactics. On the march he precedes his porters, and any one who breaks this rule is liable to a fine. He often undergoes abuse for losing the way, for marching too far or not far enough, for not halting at the proper place, and for not setting out at the right time. In return he enjoys the empty circumstance of command, and the solid advantage of better food and a present, which, however, is optional, at the end of the journey: he carries a lighter load, and his emoluments frequently enable him to be attended by a slave. The only way of breaking the perverse and headstrong herd into a semblance of discipline, is to support the Kirangozi at all conjunctures, and to make him, if possible, dole out the daily rations and portion the occasional presents of meat.

At the preliminary Khambi the Mtongi superintends the distribution of each Muzigo or load. The Pagazi or porters are mostly lads, lank and light, with the lean and clean legs of leopards. Sometimes, however, a herculean form is found with the bullet-head, the broad bull-like neck, the deep wide chest, and the large strong extremities that characterise the Hammal of Stamboul. There is usually a sprinkling of greybeards, who might be expected, as the proverb is, to be “leaning against the wall.” Amongst these races, however, the older men, who have learned to husband their strength, fare better than their juniors, and the Africans, like the Arabs, object to a party which does not contain veterans in beard, age, and experience. In portioning the loads there is always much trouble: each individual has his favourite fancy, and must choose, or, at any rate, must consent to his burden. To load porters properly is a work of skill. They will accept at the hand of a man who knows their nature a weight which, if proposed by a stranger, would be rejected with grunts of disgust. They hate the inconvenience of boxes, unless light enough to be carried at both ends of a “Banghi”-pole by one man, or heavy enough to be slung between two porters. The burden must never be under a fair standard, especially when of that description that it decreases by expenditure towards the end of the journey; a lightly-laden man not only becomes lazy, he also makes his fellows discontented. The nature of the load, however, causes an inequality of weight. Cloth is tightly rolled up in the form of a huge bolster, five feet long by eighteen to twenty-four inches in diameter, protected against wear and weather by Makanda or coarse matting of brab-leaf, and corded over. This bundle is fastened, for the purpose of preserving its shape and for convenience of stacking, in a cradle of three or more flexible branches, cut from a small tree below the place of junction, barked and trimmed, laid along the length of the load, and confined at the open end by a lashing of fibre-rope. Besides his weapons and marching kit, a man will carry a pack of two Frasilah or seventy pounds, and this perhaps is the maximum. Beads are placed in long, narrow bags of domestics, matted, corded, and cradled in sticks like cloth; being a less elastic load, they are more difficult to carry, and therefore seldom exceed fifty pounds. Brass, and other wires, are carried in daur, khata, or circles, lashed to both ends of a pole, which is generally the large midrib of a palm-frond, with a fork cut in its depth at one extremity to form a base for the load when stacked, and provided at the point of junction with a Kitambara or pad of grass, rag, or leather. Wire is the lightest, as ivory is the heaviest, of loads. The African porter will carry only the smallest burdens upon his head, and the custom is mostly confined to women and children. The merchants of course carry nothing but themselves, except in extreme cases; but when the sudden sickness or the evasion of a porter endangers the safety of his load, they shoulder it without hesitation. The chief proprietor usually follows his caravan, accompanied by some of his partners and armed slaves, to prevent the straggling which may lead to heavy loss; he therefore often endures the heat and tedium of the road longer than the rest of his party.

The loads of the Pagazi, it has appeared, are composed of beads, cloth, and wire, which in this land of “round trade” or barter, supply the wants of a circulating medium, and they severally represent copper, silver, and gold. For a detailed notice, the reader is referred to the appendix; in this place a few general remarks will suffice to set before him the somewhat complicated use of the articles.

Of beads there are about 400 varieties, some of which have each three or four different names. The cheapest, which form the staple of commerce, are the Hafizi, Khanyera or Ushanga Waupe, a round white porcelain, the price of which averages at Zanzibar 1 dollar per 5 or 6 lbs. avoirdupois. The most expensive are the Samsam or Samesame, also called Joho (scarlet cloth), Kimara-p’hamba (food-finishers), because a man will part with his dinner to obtain them, and Kifunjyá-mji (town-breakers), because the women will ruin themselves and their husbands for them: these are the small coral-bead, scarlet enamelled upon a white ground, they are of fifteen different sizes, and the value at Zanzibar is from 13 to 16 dollars per 35 lbs. Beads are purchased from the Banyan monopolisers unstrung, and are afterwards mounted by the merchant upon T’hembe, or threads of palm-fibre; much depends for success in sale upon the regularity and the attractiveness of the line. The principal divisions are the bitil and the khete, which may represent the farthing and the penny. The former is a single length from the tip of the index to the wrist; the latter, which comprises four of the former, is a double length round the thumb to the elbow-bone, or what is much the same, twice the circumference of the throat. Ten khete compose the fundo or knot, which is used in the larger purchases, and of these from two to three were daily expended in our small expenses by the Goanese servants, whilst the usual compensation for rations to an African is a single khete. The utmost economy should be exercised in beads: apparently exhaustless a large store goes but a little way, and a man’s load rarely outlasts a month. It is difficult to divine what becomes of these ornaments: for centuries ton after ton has been imported into the country, they are by no means perishable substances, and the people carry, like the Indians, their wealth upon their persons. Yet not a third of the population was observed to wear any considerable quantity; possibly the excessive demand in the lands outlying direct intercourse with the coast, tends to disperse them throughout the vast terra incognita of the central African basin.

The African preserves the instincts of infancy in the higher races. He astonished the enlightened De Gama some centuries ago by rejecting with disdain jewels, gold, and silver, whilst he caught greedily at beads and other baubles, as a child snatches at a new plaything. To the present day he is the same. There is something painfully ludicrous in the expression of countenance, the intense and all-absorbing admiration, and the greedy wistfulness with which he contemplates the rubbish. Yet he uses it as a toy: after sacrificing perhaps his goat or his grain to become the happy possessor of a khete, he will hang it round his neck for a few days, and then, child-like, weary of the acquisition, he will do his best to exchange it for another. In all bargains beads must be thrown in, especially where women are concerned: their sisters of civilisation would reproach themselves with an unconscious lapse into the “nil admirari” doctrines so hateful to the muscular system of the age, and with a cold indifference to the charms of diamonds and pearls, could they but witness the effect of a string of scarlet porcelains upon the high-born dames in Central Africa.

The cloths imported into East Africa are of three kinds, Merkani, Kaniki, and “cloths with names.”

“Merkani,” in which we detect the African corruption of American, is the article “domestics”—unbleached shirting and sheeting from the mills near Salem. Kaniki, is the common Indian indigo dyed cotton. “Cloths with names,” as they are called by the Africans, are Arab and Indian checks, and coloured goods, of cotton or silk mixed with cotton. Of these the most common is the Barsati, a dark blue cotton cloth with a broad red stripe, which representing the dollar in the interior is useful as presents to chiefs. Of double value is the Dabwani, made at Maskat, a small blue and white check, with a quarter breadth of red stripe, crossed with white and yellow: this showy article is invariably demanded by the more powerful Sultans for themselves and their wives, whilst they divide the Merkani and Kaniki, which composes their Honga—“blackmail” or dash—amongst their followers.

The people of East Africa, when first visited by the Arabs, were satisfied with the coarsest and flimsiest Kaniki imported by the Banyans from Cutch. When American merchants settled at Zanzibar, Kaniki yielded before the advance of “Merkani,” which now supplies the markets from Abyssinia to the Mozambique. But the wild men are fast losing their predilection for a stuff which is neither comfortable nor durable, and in many regions the tribes satisfied with goat-skins and tree barks, prefer to invest their capital in the more attractive beads and wire. It would evidently be advantageous if England or her colonies could manufacture an article better suited to the wants of the country than that now in general use; but as long as the Indian short-stapled cotton must be used, there is little probability of her competing with the produce of the New World.

In Eastern Africa cotton cloth is used only for wear. The popular article is a piece of varying breadth but always of four cubits, or six feet, in length: the braça of Portuguese Africa, it is called by the Arabs, shukkah, by the Wasawahili, unguo, and in the far interior upande or lupande. It is used as a loin-wrapper, and is probably the first costume of Eastern Africa and of Arabia. The plate borrowed from Montfaucon’s edition of the “Topographia Christiana,” by Dr. Vincent (Part I. Appendix to the Periplus) shows the Shukkah, to be the general dress of Ethiopians, as it was of the Egyptians, and the spear their weapon. The use of the Shukkah during the Meccan pilgrimage, when the devotees cast off such innovations as coats and breeches for the national garb of their ancestors, proves its antiquity throughout the regions eastward of the Red Sea. On the African coast the Shukkah Merkani is worth about 0·25 dollars = 1s. 0¹⁄₂d., in the interior it rises to the equivalent of a dollar (4s. 2d.) and even higher. The Kaniki is but little cheaper than the Merkani, when purchased upon the sea-board; its increase of value in the interior, however, is by no means in proportion to its prime cost, and by some tribes it is wholly rejected. A double length of Shukkah, or twelve feet, the article worn by women who can afford it, is called a Doti, and corresponds with the Tobe of Abyssinia and of the Somali country. The whole piece of Merkani, which contains from seven to eleven Doti, is termed a Jurah or Gorah.

After beads and piece-goods, the principal imports into Eastern Africa, especially on the northern lines and in the western portion of the great central route, are Masango or brass wires of large sizes, Nos. 4 and 5. They are purchased at Zanzibar, when cheap, at 12, and when dear at 16, dollars per Frasilah of 35 lbs. When imported up-country the Frasilah is divided into three or four large coils, called by the Arabs “daur,” and by the Africans “khata:” the object is convenience of attachment to the porters’ banghy-poles. Arrived at Unyanyembe they are converted by artisans into the kitindi, or coil-bracelet, a peculiarly African decoration. It is a system of concentric circles extending from the wrist to the elbow; at both extremities it is made to bulge out for grace and for allowing the joints to play; and the elasticity of the wire keeps it in its place. It weighs nearly 3 lbs., yet—“vanity knows no sore”—the women of some tribes will wear four of these bulky decorations upon their arms and legs. It is mostly a feminine ornament. In the Lake Regions, however, men assume the full-sized armlet, and in the mountains of Usagara their wrists, arms, and ankles are often decorated with half and quarter lengths, which being without terminal bulges, appear to compress the limbs painfully. At Unyanyembe the value of a kitindi varies from two to four shukkah; at Ujiji, where the ornament is in demand it rises to four or five.

The remainder of the live stock forming the personnel of the caravan is composed of asses. At Zanzibar I had bought five riding animals to mount the chiefs of the party, including Said bin Salim and the Goanese. The price varied from fifteen to forty dollars. Of the twenty-nine asses used for carriage, only twenty remained when the muster was made at Zungomero, and the rapid thinning of their numbers by loss, death and accident began to suggest uncomfortable ideas.

The following “Equipment of the Expedition,” sent by me to Mr. Francis Galton, the South African traveller, and bearing date, “Camp Zungomero in Khutu, Sunday, 2nd August, 1857,” is here republished: it will assist the reader in picturing to himself the mass of material which I am about to drag over the mountains.

Provisions, &c.—1 dozen brandy (to be followed by 4 dozen more); 1 box cigars; 5 boxes tea (each 6 lbs.); a little coffee; 2 bottles curry stuff, besides ginger, rock and common salt, red and black pepper, one bottle each, pickles, soap, and spices; 20 lbs. pressed vegetables; 1 bottle vinegar; 2 bottles oil; 20 lbs. sugar (honey is procurable in the country).

Arms and Ammunition, including 2 smooth bores, 3 rifles, a Colt’s carbine, and 3 revolvers, spare fittings, &c., and 3 swords. Each gun has its leather bag with three compartments, for powder-flask, ball, caps, patches, &c. 100 lbs. gunpowder (in 2 safety copper magazines and others); 60 lbs. shot; 380 lbs. lead bullets, cast of hardened material at the Arsenal, Bombay, placed in boxes 40 lbs. each for convenience of carriage, also to serve as specimen boxes, and screwed down to prevent pilfering; 20,000 copper caps; wadding.

The Baloch are armed with matchlocks, shields, swords, daggers and knives. They have for ammunition—40 lbs. gunpowder (4 kegs); 1000 lead bullets; 1000 flints for slaves’ muskets, and are to be followed by about an equal quantity of ammunition.

Camp Furniture.—1 sepoy’s rowtie; 1 small (gable-shaped) tent of two sails joined, to cover and shelter property in this land of perpetual rains; 1 table and chair; 1 tin Crimean canteen, with knives and forks, kettle, cooking-pots, &c.; bedding, painted tarpaulin cover, 2 large cotton pillows for stuffing birds, 1 air pillow, 2 waterproof blankets (most useful), 1 Maltese blanket (remarkably good), and 2 other blankets; 1 cork bed, with 2 pillows, 3 blankets, and mosquito net. The Goanese have thick cotton padded mattresses, pillows, and blankets, and all the servants have some kind of bedding. 3 solid leather portmanteaus for clothes and books; 1 box, like an Indian petarah, for books; 1 patent leather bag for books, washing materials, diaries, drawing-books, &c.; 1 small couriers’ bag, for instruments, &c.; 5 canvas bags for kit generally; 3 mats, used as carpets.

Instruments.—1 lever watch; 2 chronometers; 2 prismatic compasses, slings, and stands; 1 ship’s azimuth compass; 2 pocket compasses; 1 pocket thermometer; 1 portable sun-dial; 1 rain gauge; 1 evaporating dish; 2 sextants and boxes, with canvas bags to be slung over porters’ shoulders; 2 artificial horizons (with a little extra mercury, to be followed by more); 1 pocket lens; 1 mountain barometer lent by Bombay Geographical Society (very delicate); 3 thermometers; 1 measuring tape (100 ft.); 1 sounding lead; 2 boiling thermometers; 1 box of mathematical instruments; 1 glass; 1 telescope; 2 ft. rule with brass slide; 1 pocket pedometer by Dixie; 1 parallel ruler.

Stationery.—Foolscap paper; 1 ream common paper; 6 blank books; 3 Letts’ diaries; 2 dozen pencils; 6 pieces caoutchouc; 6 metallic note books; 3 memorandum ditto; 1 box wafers and sealing wax; 2 field books; steel pens; quill ditto; ink powder which makes up well without acid; 3 bottles ink; 1 bottle native ink; 2 sets meteorological tables, blank; 4 tin cylinders for papers (very bad, everything rusts in them); Nautical Almanacs for 1857 and 1858; charts, Mr. Cooley’s maps; “Mombas mission map”; skeleton maps; table of stars; account book; portfolio; wooden and tin cylinders for pens, &c.

Tools.—1 large turnscrew; 1 hand saw; 1 hammer; 20 lbs. nails; 1 hand vice; 1 hone; 9 hatchets (as a rule every porter carries an axe); 2 files; 9 Jembe or native hoe; 9 Mas’ha or native dibbles; 1 cold chisel; 1 heavy hammer; 1 pair pincers. To be followed by 1 bench vice; 1 hand ditto; 12 gimlets of sizes; 1 18-inch stone grinder, with spindle and handle; 6 splitting axes; 12 augers of sizes; 2 sets centre-bits, with stock; 12 chisels; 4 mortise chisels; 2 sets drills; 24 saw files; 6 files of sorts; 4 gouges of sizes; 50 lbs. iron nails; 2 planes, with 2 spare irons; 3 hand saws; screws. These things were expected to be useful at the lakes, where carpenters are in demand.

Clothing, Bedding, and Shoes.—Shirts, flannel and cotton; turbans and thick felt caps for the head. (N.B. not looking forward to so long a journey, we left Zanzibar without a new outfit; consequently we were in tatters before the end, and in a climate where flannel fights half the battle of life against death, my companion was compelled to invest himself in overalls of American domestics, and I was forced to cut up blankets into coats and wrappers. The Goanese also had laden themselves with rags which would have been refused by a Jew; they required to be re-clothed in Kaniki, or blue cotton. African travel is no favourable opportunity for wearing out old clothes; the thorny jungles, and the practice of packing up clothes wet render a double outfit necessary for long journeys. The second should be carried packed up in tin—flannel-shirts, trousers and stocks, at least six of each,—not to be opened till required.

The best bedding in this country would be a small horsehair mattrass with two blankets, one thick the other thin, and mosquito curtains that would pack into the pillow. A simple carpet-bag without leathern or other adjuncts, should contain the travelling clothes, and all the bedding should roll up into a single bundle, covered with a piece of waterproof canvass, and tightly bound with stout straps.

As regards shoes, the best would be ammunition boots for walking and jack boots for riding. They must be of light colour, and at least one size too large in England; they should be carefully protected from external air which is ruinous to leather, and they must be greased from time to time,—with fat not with oil—otherwise they will soon become so hard and dry, that it is impossible to draw them on unless treated after the Indian plan, viz. dipped in hot water and stretched with a stuffing of straw.)

Books and Drawing Materials.—Norie; Bowdich; Thompson’s ‘Lunar Tables;’ Gordon’s ‘Time Tables;’ Galton’s ‘Art of Travel;’ Buist’s ‘Manual of Observation;’ Jackson’s ‘What to Observe;’ Jackson’s ‘Military Surveying;’ ‘Admiralty Manual;’ Cuvier’s ‘Animal Life;’ Prichard’s ‘History of Man;’ Keith’s ‘Trigonometry;’ Krapf’s ‘Kisuaheli Grammar;’ Krapf’s ‘Kinika Testament;’ Amharic Grammar (Isenberg’s); Belcher’s ‘Mast Head Angles;’ Cooley’s ‘Geography of N’yassi;’ and other miscellaneous works; 1 paint-box complete, soft water colours; 1 small ditto, with Chinese ink, sepia and Prussian blue; 2 drawing books; 1 large drawing book; 1 camera lucida.

Portable domestic Medicine Chest.—Vilely made. Some medicines for natives in packages. Application was made to Zanzibar for more quinine, some morphia, Warburg’s drops, citric acid, and chiretta root.

Miscellaneous.—10 pieces scarlet broad-cloth for presents (3 expended); 3 knives for servants; 4 umbrellas; 1 hank salmon gut; 1 dozen twisted gut; 1 lb. bees’ wax; courier’s box with brass clasps to carry sundries on the road; 2 dozen penknives; 2000 fishing hooks; 42 bundles fishing line; 2 lanterns (policeman’s bull’s eye and common horn); 2 iron ladles for casting lead; 1 housewife, with buttons, needles, thread, silk, pins, &c.; 12 needles (sailor’s) and palms; 2 pair scissors; 2 razors; 1 hone; 2 pipes; 1 tobacco pouch; 1 cigar case; 7 canisters of snuff; 1 filter; 1 pocket filter; 1 looking-glass; 1 small tin dressing-case, with soap, nail-brush and tooth-brush (very useful); brushes and combs; 1 union jack; arsenical paste for specimens; 10 steels and flints.

Life at Zungomero I have said was the acme of discomfort. The weather was, as usual at the base of the mountains, execrable; pelting showers descended in a succession, interrupted only by an occasional burst of fiery sunshine which extracted steam from the thick covert of grass, bush, and tree. The party dispersing throughout the surrounding villages, in which it was said about 1000 travellers were delayed by the inundations, drank beer, smoked bhang, quarrelled amongst themselves, and by their insolence and violence caused continual complaints on the part of the villagers. Both the Goanese being prostrated with mild modifications of “yellow jack,” I was obliged to admit them into the hut, which was already sufficiently populated with pigeons, rats, and flies by day, and with mosquitos, bugs, and fleas, by night. At length weary of waiting the arrival of the twenty-two promised porters, we prepared our papers, which I committed to the confidential slave of a coast Diwan, here dwelling as caravan-touter, for his uncle Ukwere of Kaole. His name was somewhat peculiar, Chomwi la Mtu Mku Wambele, or the “Headman Great Man of Precedence;”—these little Jugurthas have all the titles of emperors, with the actual power of country squires;—he never allowed himself to appear in public sober, and to judge from the list of stations with which he obliged me—of eighteen not one was correct—I hesitated to entrust his slave with reports and specimens. But the Headman Great Man of Precedence did as he promised to do, and as his charge arrived safely, I here make to him the “amende honorable.”