Mr. Stanley, in speaking of the usual preliminary deliberative palaver, or, as the Wangwana call it, “Shauri,” held before the final execution of all great enterprises, says:—
“The chiefs arranged themselves in a semicircle on the day of the Shauri, and I sat à la Turque fronting them. ‘What is it, my friends? Speak your minds.’ They hemmed and hawed, looked at one another, as if on their neighbors’ faces they might discover the purport of their coming; but, all hesitating to begin, finally broke down in a loud laugh.
“Manwa Sera, always grave, unless hit dextrously with a joke, hereupon affected anger, and said, ‘You speak, son of Safeni. Verily, we act like children! Will the master eat us?’
“Wadi, son of Safeni, thus encouraged to perform the spokesman’s duty, hesitates exactly two seconds, and then ventures with diplomatic blandness and graciosity: ‘We have come, master, with words. Listen. It is well we should know every step before we leap. A traveller journeys not without knowing whither he wanders. We have come to ascertain what lands you are bound for!’
“Imitating the son of Safeni’s gracious blandness, and his low tone of voice, as though the information about to be imparted to the intensely interested and eagerly listening group were too important to speak it loud, I described in brief outlines the prospective journey in broken Kiswahili. As country after country was mentioned of which they had hitherto but vague ideas, and river after river, lake after lake named, all of which I hoped with their trusty aid to explore carefully, various ejaculations expressive of wonder and joy, mixed with a little alarm, broke from their lips; but when I concluded, each of the group drew a long breath, and almost simultaneously they uttered admiringly, ‘Ah, fellows, this is a journey worthy to be called a journey!’”
By 5 o’clock P. M. of the 12th of November, 224 men had responded to their names, and five of the Arab vessels, laden with the personnel, cattle, and material of the expedition, were impatiently waiting, with anchor heaved short, the word of command. One vessel still lay close ashore, to convey Mr. Stanley and Frederick Barker—in charge of the personal servants—their baggage and the dogs.
A wave of the hand, and the anchors were hove up. With sails set they bore away westward to launch themselves into the arms of fortune. In the words of Mr. Stanley: “The parting is over! We have said our last words for years, perhaps forever, to kindly men! The sun sinks fast to the western horizon, and gloomy is the twilight that now deepens and darkens. Thick shadows fall upon the distant land and over the silent sea, and oppress our throbbing, regretful hearts as we glide away through the dying light towards the Dark Continent.”
OFF FOR THE HEART OF AFRICA.
On the 13th of November, Stanley reached Bagamoyo, situated on the mainland near the sea. On the morning of the 17th, five days after leaving Zanzibar, the expedition filed out from the town in the following order: Four chiefs, a few hundred yards in front; next the twelve guides, clad in red robes of Jobo, bearing the wire coils; then a long file 275 strong, bearing cloth, wire, beads, and sections of the Lady Alice; after them thirty-six women and ten boys, children of some of the chiefs and boat-bearers, following their mothers and assisting them with trifling loads of utensils, followed by the riding asses, Europeans and gun bearers; the long line closed by sixteen chiefs who act as rearguard and whose duties are to pick up stragglers and act as supernumeraries until other men can be procured: in all 356 souls connected with the Anglo-American Expedition. The lengthy line occupied nearly half a mile of the path which is the commercial and exploring highway into the lake regions.