I proposed to Mohamad Bogharib to send back the women seized by Bin Juma, to show the Babemba that he disapproved of the act and was willing to make peace, but this was too humiliating; I added that their price as slaves was four barrels of gunpowder or 160 dollars, while slaves lawfully bought would have cost him only eight or ten yards of calico each. At the conclusion of Mpamari's speech the four barrels of gunpowder were exhibited, and so was the Koran, to impress them (Muabo's people) with an idea of their great power.
28th and 29th November, 1868.—It is proposed to go and force our way if we can to the north, but all feel that that would be a fine opportunity for the slaves to escape, and they would not be loth to embrace it; this makes it a serious matter, and the Koran is consulted at hours which are auspicious.
30th November, 1868.—Messengers sent to Muabo to ask a path, or in plain words protection from him; Mpamari protests his innocence of the whole affair.
1st December, 1868.—Muabo's people over again; would fain send them to make peace with Chapi!
2nd December, 1868.—The detention is excessively vexatious to me. Muabo sent three slaves as offers of peace—a fine self-imposed, but he is on our south side, and we wish to go north.
3rd December, 1868.—A party went to-day to clear the way to the north, but were warmly received by Babemba with arrows; they came back with one woman captured, and they say that they killed one man: one of themselves is wounded, and many others in danger: others who went east were shot at, and wounded too.
4th December, 1868.—A party went east, and were fain to flee from the Babemba, the same thing occurred on our west, and to-day (5th) all were called to strengthen the stockade for fear that the enemy may enter uninvited. The slaves would certainly flee, and small blame to them though they did. Mpamari proposed to go off north by night, but his people objected, as even a child crying would arouse the Babemba, and reveal the flight, so finally he sent off to ask Syde what he ought to do, whether to retire by day or by night; probably entreating Syde to come and protect him.
A sort of idol is found in every village in this part, it is of wood, and represents the features, markings and fashion of the hair of the inhabitants: some have little huts built for them—others are in common houses. The Babemba call them Nkisi ("Sancan" of the Arabs): the people of Rua name one Kalubi; the plural, Tulubi; and they present pombe, flour, bhang, tobacco, and light a fire for them to smoke by. They represent the departed father or mother, and it is supposed that they are pleased with the offerings made to their representatives, but all deny that they pray to them. Casembe has very many of these Nkisi; one with long hair, and named Motombo, is carried in front when he takes the field; names of dead chiefs are sometimes given to them. I have not met with anyone intelligent enough to explain if prayers are ever made to anyone; the Arabs who know their language, say they have no prayers, and think that at death there is an end of the whole man, but other things lead me to believe this is erroneous. Slaves laugh at their countrymen, in imitation of their masters, and will not reveal their real thoughts: one said that they believed in two Superior Beings—Réza above, who kills people, and Réza below, who carries them away after death.
6th December, 1868.—Ten of Syde bin Habib's people came over, bringing a letter, the contents of which neither Mpamari nor Mohamad cares to reveal. Some think, with great probability, that he asks, "Why did you begin a war if you wanted to leave so soon? Did you not know that the country people would take advantage of your march, encumbered as you will be by women and slaves?" Mohamad Bogharib called me to ask what advice I could give him, as all his own advice, and devices too, had been lost or were useless, and he did not know what to do. The Banyamwezi threatened to go off by night and leave him, as they are incensed against the Babemba, and offended because the Arabs do not aid them in wreaking their vengeance upon them.
I took care not to give any advice, but said, if I had been or was in his place, I would have sent or would send back Bin Juma's captives, to show that I disapproved of his act—the first in the war—and was willing to make peace with Chapi. He said that he did not know that Bin Juma would capture these people; that Bin Juma had met some natives with fish, and took ten by force, that the natives, in revenge, caught three Banyamwezi slaves, and Bin Juma then gave one slave to them as a fine, but Mohamad did not know of this affair either. I am of opinion, however, that he was fully aware of both matters, and Mpamari's caracoling showed that he knew it all, though now he denies it.