Nevertheless, the best-natured Arabs confess that the present state of things is to some extent the result of the excesses and high-handed conduct of Muini Dugumbi, who, animated by greed for ivory and slaves, signalled his advent in the country by shooting men as soon as seen in their villages. Aware of the bad repute which Arabs had in Manyema, I refused to be accompanied by any trader from Ujiji, though some half-dozen earnestly entreated me to wait for them. As far as Nyangwé all the members of our Expedition had reason to rejoice in this decision, for we were neither threatened nor molested in the least.

An internecine “war” in Manyema is exceedingly comical. Old Riba-Riba, a patriarch of eighty or thereabouts, who with his few villages guards the frontier on the range separating Uhombo from Manyema, told me he was at “war” with Mwana Buttu of Nyembu. The cause was the murder of a young man of Riba-Riba’s by Mwana Buttu’s people.

When the shocking affair became known there was great excitement, much manifestation of anger, loud talk, sharpening of broad-bladed spears, and industrious preparation of stacks of fire-hardened wooden assegais and other deadly war matériel. All things being ready, Riba-Riba’s people reluctantly set off to fight Mwana Buttu’s villagers, not, however, without first communicating their intentions and publishing by criers a formal and fierce declaration of war.

But Mwana Buttu is of a sterner nature than is common in Manyema; consequently, to Riba-Riba’s surprise, he did not abscond for fear of the invading host, but calmly arrayed his warriors in order of battle on the opposite side of a stream, that he might take advantage of the enemy’s confusion while crossing.

Riba-Riba’s warriors, on emerging from the depth of the forest, perceived the foe palisaded behind their tall, door-like shields, and immediately formed themselves in like order on their own side of the stream. From this position they opened on the enemy volleys of tongue abuse, which lasted for hours; until at last both sides, fatigued with the wordy encounter and hoarse with the prolonged vituperative exercise, mutually consented to defer the battle until next day.

The morrow dawned, and both sides, vigilantly active after their night’s rest, reformed themselves in the same positions which they had occupied on the previous day, and resumed the wordy war with all its fierce gesture, and a great clangour of wooden shields, until sunset, when both parties retired from the field with no decisive advantage to either side.

On the third day the wordy war was resumed, until both tribes, exhausted from the bloodless conflict, mutually agreed that they would postpone the war with spears to an indefinite period. Meanwhile they have left off visiting. The affair will only be settled by the arrival of some Arab mercenary, who, for a consideration of five or six tusks of ivory, will undertake, with a few explosions of that mischievous compound called gunpowder, to send Mwana Buttu flying and to “beat his back with his own shield,” thus avenging Riba-Riba.

Oct. 13.—On the 13th, after a march of thirteen miles in a west-south-west direction, along a very crooked path, we arrived at Kabungwé.

At this settlement we observed for the first time spears all of wood, having their points sharp and hardened in fire, and shafts 8 to 10 feet long. As each warrior possesses a sheaf of these weapons, besides a vast wooden shield, he is sufficiently armed against a native enemy, and might, by a little boldness, become a dangerous foe to an Arab.

The currency throughout Manyema consists of cowries. Six cowries formed the ration money of the Wangwana, three cowries purchased a chicken, two procured ten maize ears, one cowrie obtained the service of a native to grind the grain, two cowries were a day’s hire for a porter; so that the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi were enjoying both abundance and relief from labour while we were travelling through Manyema.

At Kabungwé I was alarmed at an insufferable odour that pervaded the air we breathed, for, whether in the house or without, the atmosphere seemed loaded with an intolerable stench. On enquiring of the natives whether there was any dead animal putrefying in the neighbourhood, they pointed to the firewood that was burning, and to a tree—a species of laurel—as that which emitted the smell. Upon examination I found it was indeed due to this strange wood, which, however, only becomes offensive under the action of fire.

Between Kabungwé and Mtuyu, our next camp, the country is extremely populous. Were all the villages we passed inhabited by brave men, a brigade of European troops could not move without precaution. The people, however, did not attempt to molest us, though an enormous number came out to stare at us and our asses.

The natives are quick to adopt nicknames. In some places the Arabs were known by the name of Mwana Ngombé, “lords of cows”; in others, Wasambyé, or the “uncircumcised,” because of their Wanyamwezi followers, which last name has penetrated over an immense region.

Majwara, Frank Pocock’s servant, upon receiving the present of a bride from Mtesa because he was the son of Namujurilwa, the champion of Uganda, gave her the name of Tuma-leo, or “sent-to-day.”

The Sarmeen of my first expedition received from his comrades, for his detective qualities, the name of Kachéché, or the “weasel.”

Lukoma, who accompanied us to Muta Nzigé, called himself Mkanga, or “the one who looks behind.”

Sambuzi received the title of Mta-uza, or the “spoiler”; and one of his subordinates was called Kiswaga, or “fleet-foot.”

Kalulu’s name was formerly Ndugu Mali, “brother of money.”

Wadi Safeni had a young relative in the Expedition entitled Akili Mali, or “one who is wise with his money.”

Mgongo-Tembo, or “elephant’s back”; Mambu, or “noise”; Khamis, or “Thursday”; Juma, or “Friday”; Muini Kheri, or “lord of fortune”; Muini Pembé, or “lord of ivory”; and scores of others I might mention.

In the same manner countries receive appellations distinctive of peculiarities, such as—

Lakes also have names significative of native ideas, such as the Tanganika, “the great lake spreading out like a plain,” or “plain-like lake”; Niyanja Muta Nzigé, or “the lake of dead locusts,” from, no doubt, the swarms of locusts on the plains of Ankori, Unyoro, and Western Uganda, and the salinas of Usongora, being swept into it by strong winds; Niyanja, or Nianja Ukerewé, “the great lake around Ukerewé.”

Mtuyu is the easternmost settlement of the country of Uzura. On arrival we perceived that all their women were absent, and naturally enquired what had become of them.them. They replied, in pathetic strains, “Oh, they are all dead, all cut off, every one. It was the small-pox!”

We sympathised with them, of course, because of such a terrible loss, and attempted to express our concern. But one of our enterprising people, while endeavouring to search out a good market for his cowries, discovered several dozen of the women in a wooded ravine!

Skirting the range of hills which bounds the Luama valley on the north, we marched to Mpungu, which is fifteen miles west of Mtuyu. Kiteté, its chief, is remarkable for a plaited beard twenty inches long, decorated at the tips with a number of blue glass beads. His hair was also trussed up on the crown of his head in a shapely mass. His brother possessed a beard six inches long; there were half-a-dozen others with beards of three or four inches long. Kiteté’s symbol of royalty was a huge truncheon, or Hercules club, blackened and hardened by fire. His village was neat, and the architecture of the huts peculiar, as the picture at foot shows.

The Luama valley at Uzura at this season presents a waving extent of grass-grown downs, and while crossing over the higher swells of land, we enjoyed uninterrupted views of thirty or forty miles to the west and south.

From Mpungu we travelled through an interesting country (a distance of four miles), and suddenly from the crest of a low ridge saw the confluence of the Luama with the majestic Lualaba. The former appeared to have a breadth of 400 yards at the mouth; the latter was about 1400 yards wide, a broad river of a pale grey colour, winding slowly from south and by east.

We hailed its appearance with shouts of joy, and rested on the spot to enjoy the view. Across the river, beyond a tawny, grassy stretch towards the south-south-west, is Mount Kijima; about 1000 feet above the valley, to the south-south-east, across the Luama, runs the Luhye-ya ridge; from its base the plain slopes to the swift Luama. In the bed of the great river are two or three small islands, green with the verdure of trees and sedge. I likened it even here to the Mississippi, as it appears before the impetuous, full-volumed Missouri pours its rusty-brown water into it.

A secret rapture filled my soul as I gazed upon the majestic stream. The great mystery that for all these centuries Nature had kept hidden away from the world of science was waiting to be solved. For two hundred and twenty miles I had followed one of the sources of the Livingstone to the confluence, and now before me lay the superb river itself! My task was to follow it to the Ocean.