Part 10 (1/2)

After a three hours' march, we halted for a short time at Little Mukondoku, to settle tribute with the brother of him who rules at Mukondoku Proper. Three doti satisfied the Sultan, whose district contains but two villages, mostly occupied by pastoral Wahumba and renegade Wahehe. The Wahumba live in plastered (cow-dung) cone huts, shaped like the tartar tents of Turkestan.

The Wahumba, so far as I have seen them, are a fine and well-formed race. The men are positively handsome, tall, with small heads, the posterior parts of which project considerably. One will look in vain for a thick lip or a flat nose amongst them; on the contrary, the mouth is exceedingly well cut, delicately small; the nose is that of the Greeks, and so universal was the peculiar feature, that I at once named them the Greeks of Africa. Their lower limbs have not the heaviness of the Wagogo and other tribes, but are long and shapely, clean as those of an antelope. Their necks are long and slender, on which their small heads are poised most gracefully. Athletes from their youth, shepherd bred, and intermarrying among themselves, thus keeping the race pure, any of them would form a fit subject for the sculptor who would wish to immortalize in marble an Antinous, a Hylas, a Daphnis, or an Apollo.

The women are as beautiful as the men are handsome. They have clear ebon skins, not coal-black, but of an inky hue. Their ornaments consist of spiral rings of bra.s.s pendent from the ears, bra.s.s ring collars about the necks, and a spiral cincture of bra.s.s wire about their loins for the purpose of retaining their calf and goat skins, which are folded about their bodies, and, depending from the shoulder, shade one half of the bosom, and fall to the knees.

The Wahehe may be styled the Romans of Africa. Resuming our march, after a halt of an hour, in foul hours more we arrived at Mukondoku Proper.

This extremity of Ugogo is most populous, The villages which surround the central tembe, where the Sultan Swaruru lives, amount to thirty-six.

The people who flocked from these to see the wonderful men whose faces were white, who wore the most wonderful things on their persons, and possessed the most wonderful weapons; guns which ”b.u.m-b.u.mmed” as fast as you could count on your fingers, formed such a mob of howling savages, that I for an instant thought there was something besides mere curiosity which caused such commotion, and attracted such numbers to the roadside.

Halting, I asked what was the matter, and what they wanted, and why they made such noise? One burly rascal, taking my words for a declaration of hostilities, promptly drew his bow, but as prompt as he had fixed his arrow my faithful Winchester with thirteen shots in the magazine was ready and at the shoulder, and but waited to see the arrow fly to pour the leaden messengers of death into the crowd. But the crowd vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the burly Thersites, and two or three irresolute fellows of his tribe, standing within pistol range of my levelled rifle. Such a sudden dispersion of the mob which, but a moment before, was overwhelming in numbers, caused me to lower my rifle, and to indulge in a hearty laugh at the disgraceful flight of the men-destroyers. The Arabs, who were as much alarmed at their boisterous obtrusiveness, now came up to patch a truce, in which they succeeded to everybody's satisfaction. A few words of explanation, and the mob came back in greater numbers than before; and the Thersites who had been the cause of the momentary disturbance was obliged to retire abashed before the pressure of public opinion. A chief now came up, whom I afterwards learned was the second man to Swaruru, and lectured the people upon their treatment of the ”White Stranger.”

”Know ye not, Wagogo,” shouted he, ”that this Musungu is a sultan (mtemi--a most high t.i.tle). He has not come to Ugogo like the Wakonongo (Arabs), to trade in ivory, but to see us, and give presents. Why do you molest him and his people? Let them pa.s.s in peace. If you wish to see him, draw near, but do not mock him. The first of you who creates a disturbance, let him beware; our great mtemi shall know how you treat his friends.” This little bit of oratorical effort on the part of the chief was translated to me there and then by the old Sheik Thani; which having understood, I bade the Sheikh inform the chief that, after I had rested, I should like him to visit me in my tent.

Having arrived at the khambi, which always surrounds some great baobab in Ugogo, at the distance of about half a mile from the tembe of the Sultan, the Wagogo pressed in such great numbers to the camp that Sheikh Thani resolved to make an effort to stop or mitigate the nuisance.

Dressing himself in his best clothes, he went to appeal to the Sultan for protection against his people. The Sultan was very much inebriated, and was pleased to say, ”What is it you want, you thief? You have come to steal my ivory or my cloth. Go away, thief!” But the sensible chief, whose voice had just been heard reproaching the people for their treatment of the Wasungu, beckoned to Thani to come out of the tembe, and then proceeded with him towards the khambi.

The camp was in a great uproar; the curious Wagogo monopolized almost every foot of ground; there was no room to turn anywhere. The Wanyamwezi were quarreling with the Wagogo, the Wasawahili servants were clamoring loud that the Wagogo pressed down their tents, and that the property of the masters was in danger; while I, busy on my diary within my tent, cared not how great was the noise and confusion outside as long as it confined itself to the Wagogo, Wanyamwezi, and w.a.n.gwana.

The presence of the chief in the camp was followed by a deep silence that I was prevailed upon to go outside to see what had caused it. The chief's words were few, and to the point. He said, ”To your tembes, Wagogo--to your tembes! Why, do you come to trouble the Wakonongo: What have you to do with them? To your tembes: go! Each Mgogo found in the khambi without meal, without cattle to sell, shall pay to the mtemi cloth or cows. Away with you!” Saying which, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up a stick and drove the hundreds out of the khambi, who were as obedient to him as so many children. During the two days we halted at Mukondoku we saw no more of the mob, and there was peace.

The muhongo of the Sultan Swaruru was settled with few words. The chief who acted for the Sultan as his prime minister having been ”made glad”

with a doti of Rehani Ulyah from me, accepted the usual tribute of six doti, only one of which was of first-cla.s.s cloth.

There remained but one more sultan to whom muhongo must be paid after Mukondoku, and this was the Sultan of Kiwyeh, whose reputation was so bad that owners of property who had control over their pagazis seldom pa.s.sed by Kiwyeh, preferring the hards.h.i.+ps of long marches through the wilderness to the rudeness and exorbitant demands of the chief of Kiwyeh. But the pagazis, on whom no burden or responsibility fell save that of carrying their loads, who could use their legs and show clean heels in the case of a hostile outbreak, preferred the march to Kiwyeh to enduring thirst and the fatigue of a terekeza. Often the preference of the pagazis won the day, when their employers were timid, irresolute men, like Sheikh Hamed.

The 7th of June was the day fixed for our departure from Mukondoku, so the day before, the Arabs came to my tent to counsel with me as to the route we should adopt. On calling together the kirangozis of the respective caravans and veteran Wanyamwezi pagazis, we learned there were three roads leading from Mukondoku to Uyanzi. The first was the southern road, and the one generally adopted, for the reasons already stated, and led by Kiwyeh. To this Hamed raised objections. ”The Sultan was bad,” he said; ”he sometimes charged a caravan twenty doti; our caravan would have to pay about sixty doti. The Kiwyeh road would not do at all. Besides,” he added, ”we have to make a terekeza to reach Kiwyeh, and then we will not reach it before the day after to-morrow.” The second was the central road. We should arrive at Munieka on the morrow; the day after would be a terekeza from Mabunguru Nullah to a camp near Unyambogi; two hours the next day would bring us to Kiti, where there was plenty of water and food. As neither of the kirangozis or Arabs knew this road, and its description came from one of my ancient pagazis, Hamed said he did not like to trust the guidance of such a large caravan in the hands of an old Mnyamwezi, and would therefore prefer to hear about the third road, before rendering his decision. The third road was the northern. It led past numerous villages of the Wagogo for the first two hours; then we should strike a jungle; and a three hours' march would then bring us to Simbo, where there was water, but no village.

Starting early next morning, we would travel six hours when we would arrive at a pool of water. Here taking a short rest, an afternoon march of five hours would bring us within three hours of another village. As this last road was known to many, Hamed said, ”Sheikh Thani, tell the Sahib that I think this is the best road.” Sheikh Thani was told, after he had informed me that, as I had marched with them through Ugogo, if they decided upon going by Simbo, my caravan would follow.

Immediately after the discussion among the princ.i.p.als respecting the merits of the several routes, arose a discussion among the pagazis which resulted in an obstinate clamor against the Simbo road, for its long terekeza and scant prospects of water, the dislike to the Simbo road communicated itself to all the caravans, and soon it was magnified by reports of a wilderness reaching from Simbo to Kusuri, where there was neither food nor water to be obtained. Hamed's pagazis, and those of the Arab servants, rose in a body and declared they could not go on that march, and if Hamed insisted upon adopting it they would put their packs down and leave him to carry them himself.

Hamed Kimiani, as he was styled by the Arabs, rushed up to Sheikh Thani, and declared that he must take the Kiwyeh road, otherwise his pagazis would all desert. Thani replied that all the roads were the same to him, that wherever Hamed chose to go, he would follow. They then came to my tent, and informed me of the determination at which the Wanyamwezi had arrived. Calling my veteran Mnyamwezi, who had given me the favourable report once more to my tent, I bade him give a correct account of the Kiti road. It was so favourable that my reply to Hamed was, that I was the master of my caravan, that it was to go wherever I told the kirangozi, not where the pagazis chose; that when I told them to halt they must halt, and when I commanded a march, a march should be made; and that as I fed them well and did not overwork them, I should like to see the pagazi or soldier that disobeyed me. ”You made up your mind just now that you would take the Simbo road, and we were agreed upon it, now your pagazis say they will take, the Kiwyeh road, or desert. Go on the Kiwyeh road and pay twenty doti muhongo. I and my caravan to-morrow morning will take the Kiti road, and when you find me in Unyanyembe one day ahead of you, you will be sorry you did not take the same road.”

This resolution of mine had the effect of again changing the current of Hamed's thoughts, for he instantly said, ”That is the best road after all, and as the Sahib is determined to go on it, and we have all travelled together through the bad land of the Wagogo, Inshallah! let us all go the same way,” and Thani=-good old man--not objecting, and Hamed having decided, they both joyfully went out of the tent to communicate the news.

On the 7th the caravans--apparently unanimous that the Kiti road was to be taken--were led as usual by Hamed's kirangozi. We had barely gone a mile before I perceived that we had left the Simbo road, had taken the direction of Kiti, and, by a cunning detour, were now fast approaching the defile of the mountain ridge before us, which admitted access to the higher plateau of Kiwyeh. Instantly halting my caravan, I summoned the veteran who had travelled by Kiti, and asked him whether we were not going towards Kiwyeh. He replied that we were. Calling my pagazis together, I bade Bombay tell them that the Musuugu never changed his mind; that as I had said my caravan should march by Kiti; to Kiti it must go whether the Arabs followed or not. I then ordered the veteran to take up his load and show the kirangozi the proper road to Kiti.

The Wanyamwezi pagazis put down their bales, and then there was every indication of a mutiny. The w.a.n.gwana soldiers were next ordered to load their guns and to flank the caravan, and shoot the first pagazis who made an attempt to run away. Dismounting, I seized my whip, and, advancing towards the first pagazi who had put down his load, I motioned to him to take up his load and march. It was unnecessary to proceed further; without an exception, all marched away obediently after the kirangozi. I was about bidding farewell to Thani, and Hamed, when Thani said, ”Stop a bit, Sahib; I have had enough of this child's play; I come with you,” and his caravan was turned after mine. Hamed's caravan was by this time close to the defile, and he himself was a full mile behind it, weeping like a child at what he was pleased to call our desertion of him. Pitying his strait--for he was almost beside himself as thoughts of Kiwyeh's sultan, his extortion and rudeness, swept across his mind--I advised him to run after his caravan, and tell it, as all the rest had taken the other road, to think of the Sultan of Kiwyeh. Before reaching the Kiti defile I was aware that Hamed's caravan was following us.

The ascent of the ridge was rugged and steep, thorns of the p.r.i.c.kliest nature punished us severely, the _acacia horrida_ was here more horrid than usual, the gums stretched out their branches, and entangled the loads, the mimosa with its umbrella-like top served to shade us from the sun, but impeded a rapid advance. Steep outcrops of syenite and granite, worn smooth by many feet, had to be climbed over, rugged terraces of earth and rock had to be ascended, and distant shots resounding through the forest added to the alarm and general discontent, and had I not been immediately behind my caravan, watchful of every manoeuvre, my Wanyamwezi had deserted to a man. Though the height we ascended was barely 800 feet above the salina we had just left, the ascent occupied two hours.

Having surmounted the plateau and the worst difficulties, we had a fair road comparatively, which ran through jungle, forest, and small open tracts, which in three hours more brought us to Munieka, a small village, surrounded by a clearing richly cultivated by a colony of subjects of Swaruru of Mukondoku.

By the time we had arrived at camp everybody had recovered his good humour and content except Hamed. Thani's men happened to set his tent too close to Hamed's tree, around which his bales were stacked. Whether the little Sheikh imagined honest old Thani capable of stealing one is not known, but it is certain that he stormed and raved about the near neighbourhood of his best friend's tent, until Thani ordered its removal a hundred yards off. This proceeding even, it seems, did not satisfy Hamed, for it was quite midnight--as Thani said--when Hamed came, and kissing his hands and feet, on his knees implored forgiveness, which of course Thani, being the soul of good-nature, and as large-hearted as any man, willingly gave. Hamed was not satisfied, however, until, with the aid of his slaves, he had transported his friend's tent to where it had at first been pitched.

The water at Munieka was obtained from a deep depression in a hump of syenite, and was as clear as crystal, and' cold as ice-water--a luxury we had not experienced since leaving Simbamwenni.

We were now on the borders of Uyanzi, or, as it is better known, ”Magunda Mkali ”--the Hot-ground, or Hot-field. We had pa.s.sed the village populated by Wagogo, and were about to shake the dust of Ugogo from our feet. We had entered Ugogo full of hopes, believing it a most pleasant land--a land flowing with milk and honey. We had been grievously disappointed; it proved to be a land of gall and bitterness, full of trouble and vexation of spirit, where danger was imminent at every step--where we were exposed to the caprice of inebriated sultans.

Is it a wonder, then, that all felt happy at such a moment? With the prospect before us of what was believed by many to be a real wilderness, our ardor was not abated, but was rather strengthened. The wilderness in Africa proves to be, in many instances, more friendly than the populated country. The kirangozi blew his kudu horn much more merrily on this morning than he was accustomed to do while in Ugogo. We were about to enter Magunda Mkali. At 9 A.M., three hours after leaving Munieka, and two hours since we had left the extreme limits of Ugogo, we were halted at Mabunguru Nullah. The Nullah runs southwesterly after leaving its source in the chain of hills dividing Ugogo from Magunda Mkali. During the rainy season it must be nearly impa.s.sable, owing to the excessive slope of its bed. Traces of the force of the torrent are seen in the syenite and basalt boulders which enc.u.mber the course. Their rugged angles are worn smooth, and deep basins are excavated where the bed is of the rock, which in the dry season serve as reservoirs. Though the water contained in them has a slimy and greenish appearance, and is well populated with frogs, it is by no means unpalatable.

At noon we resumed our march, the Wanyamwezi cheering, shouting, and singing, the w.a.n.gwana soldiers, servants, and pagazis vieing with them in volume of voice and noise-making the dim forest through which we were now pa.s.sing resonant with their voices.